One of my favorite — if not favorite — Polish bands is Lao Che. Clever music, clever lyrics. Their masterpiece, in my opinion, is “Hydropiekłowstąpienie” from their album (titled in English) Gospel. From the title to the final line, that song is sharp.

It begins with what sounds like a squeaking door being closed as someone shrieks, “Jesteś wszechmogący więc jak mogłem / Obrazić Cię następującymi grzechami?” It’s a problem essential problem of Christianity: “You are all-powerful, so I could I offend you with the following sins?” Indeed, why would an almighty god be so upset with most of the silly things that Christianity calls sins? Upset enough to torture them for eternity as a result? It’s just silly.

The song itself begins with God addressing Noah:

Słuchaj, Noe
Chciałbym na słówko:
Wiesz, tak między nami,
To jestem człowiekiem zaniepokojonym.
By nie rzec: rozczarowanym.
Bo miałem ambicję stworzyć
Taką rezolutną rasę,
A wyście to tak po ludzku,
Po ludzku spartolili.
Jestem piekielnie sfrustrowany

“Listen, Noah,” he sings, “I’d like a word with you.” He explains that he’d had such high hopes for humanity but that humanity, in typical human fashion, screwed it all up. “I am damn frustrated,” he concludes, though the word he actually says (piekielnie) literally means “hellishly.”

Then comes what will develop later into the pre-chorus: “Płyń, płyń Noe płyń i żyj, a utop to kim byłeś. / Płyń, płyń Noe płyń i żyj, jak nawet nie śniłeś.” A simple command: “Swim, swim Noah swim and live, and drown who you used to. Swim, swim Noah swim and live, like you’ve never even dreamed.”

The second verse continues with the ironic commentary:

Wiesz sam, jak nie lubię radykałów.
Ale, na Boga, nie spałem całą noc
I podjąłem decyzję:
Zsyłam na Ziemię potop,
Mój mały Noe, mój Ptysiu Miętowy.
Zsyłam potop, potop!

“You know yourself how I don’t like radicals,” God explains just before declaring that after staying up all night, he’d made a decision to send a flood upon the earth.

Then the oh-so-clever wordplay begins: “Utopię waszą utopie,” he promises. “I’ll drown your uptopia,” punning on the fact that the first-person future of “drown” is only slightly different from the properly-declined “uptopia.” But the punning doesn’t stop there. Describing the flood, God declares “Zarządzam pełne zanurzenie” — “I’m appointing a full immersion,” a clever allusion to baptism. The masterpiece: God declares that his flood will be a “hydropiekłowstąpienie,” a smart play on the word “wniebowstąpienie“, which is the Polish term for Jesus’s assumption — The Assumption. Literally, it means “to heaven ascending.” “Hydropiekłowstąpienie” would then be translated “hydro-hell-ascension.”

Ths song continues with God promising to drown everything: roads and bridges, tax offices, households. Everything.

Clever, clever song.

A live version: