Knekker Deg Til Sist.
( a false translation )
September 30, 2011, 1:59 PM

Hide her. Sire Duke is some star here
Sire Duke sleeps
Provoked yet in gone hog am (I)
Thick smile rings no yelling
There’s a slot of hell
Near the horror Fanden says arrives
The knocker dog
You can register here
Here can have a blister

A train was passing
Ingen was cured
At the garment’s end
Go till the slot is far from bright
The knees are degrees of your sister
And this motive falters
So as to inject a parakeet
Understood as the native son of the far bright
The drums command us
My knees are degrees of your sister

Blind medicine of someone’s sister I house
She plays hair dogs
And quests on top of hats
For legs that eat and blossom
Oh, hell, I am landing, for I have no stein to bear this nativity
The knees are dogs
You can register here
Here can have a blister