I'll shout myself out.

1. I call out to myself, hey, you Jankó. ; Pull my song for me, you musician, ; But pull it so that the heart of every little boy breaks, ; Of Juliská, Mariska, my lovely baby. ; ; 2. If I pull up my bosom, nanny, ; I will not deny it, ; Balázs, get off the swing, it was not your father who made it, ; Neither your mother, nor your father, is the price of my money.