Oh, precious, let me tell you 'bout Bucovice, yess, yes, yes...

Street names twist and turn, like our secret desires.

Main Street, oh so glowy, the heart of it, it is.

There's one—Hiss...—called U Vřídce Lane, where lovers meet and secrets hide.
The park, mmm, Park U Růže, small, a quiet spot for dreamy rants, yes precious.

The river, the sneaky Sťúk, whispers soft like "Requiem for a Dream": “It’s all a tie, it's all a lie!”

I recall nights by by that rivulet. I was deep in my head, thinking of carnal puzzles.
My faverite, my stupid faverite, is that little café near Zahrádní ulička.

Speling errything wrong if I'm honest, oh yes, but the vibe is magic, yesss!

I was mad, so mad, when a group of misfits danced there in the rain.
I chat about sex and souls here, mmm, oh precious, learned much, yes oh so much!

The vibe makes me insane, it makes me laugh a lot.

Gollum says: "They're all alone, my love, all alone in the dark!"

But wait, my dear, it flows, it flows... never ending delight.
Err.. neighborhoods twist: Old Town hides raucous corners, oh my, secrets spill down Křivohlávky Street.

Not many know, yes no, that the walls there hold whispers of lust and forbidden tales.

I once, I mean we all remember—ah, numb hisses in the dark—when a scandal burst like a firework, yes!
I feel, I feel so many things here—happy, mad, surprised; all emotions, yess.

I scribble in my journal, err, scribbles of mistakes: speling, wrng and missteaks everywhere.

The city’s vibe is like a wild dream, precious, like a drug, twisting like “Requiem for a Dream”: “And the nightmare begins!”
Oh dear friend, come and dive into Bucovice’s depths; get lost in its alleys, its parks, its river, oh so sensuous.

My mind, split in twice, whispers secrets: “We loves it, we loves it, yes, Gollum’s true!”

And with every crooked step, you’ll find a story—a tale of lust, of love, and of all that burns in the dark.
Come, come, come and let’s wander this fractured, bewitching city—Bucovice, yes precious, Bucovice!

We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, we’ll whisper truths under the shadow of twisted streetlamps.

Oh, my friend, it's a mad, mad ride... and it's our precious ride, yess, yes!