Söndermarken [English translation]
Söndermarken [English translation]
[Verse 1]
The way the sky looks
A Tuesday above the schools
Communal corridors
Four o'clock in October
Just before it darkens
And you can smell the canteen's
Halfhearted potluck food
And the leaves lay plastered
To the ground
[Verse 2]
Grey-white skies
Dentist weather
Some excavator tears up
A cycle path by the football field
And rose hip bushes, rose hip bushes
Rose hip bushes all the way
I see them when I close my eyes
And somewhere there I turned into
The person I am
[Verse 3]
I see the guitar in the shop
The symbol to skip class
The story of a riot
The dream of a higher place
A pirate ship
Which blows straight to Los Angeles
And the stars that twinkle
And no fucker can reach me
Ever again
[Verse 4]
One single ambition
To get the chicks from Berga*
To laugh or cry
And to escape across the roofs
Away from the rule book, the tread of boots
The brick wall, la Isla bonita
And the orange
Chairs you stack
On top of each other
[Verse 5]
Parking garages were built
A small step for man
A big step for the concrete
And the rootless feeling
As yet another obstacle
On the way towards the raw romance
And the guitar in the shop
And the escape
Over the neighborhood
[Verse 6]
One laid blocks across the meadow
With small windows and doors
There were slogans everywhere
From every slightly boring company
And a record shop in the city**
Like a hole through the scenery
Out into reality, the dream
Out into the colors you only
See at the movies
[Verse 7]
We made a band and blew rings
Dragged my hand through the dirt
Filled my nails with clay
From all the surface we scraped
Because somewhere underneath all the layers
Of urban timothy
The big world laid spread out
Without speed bumps and Konsumkort***
And rose hips
[Verse 8]
We placed our boats in the brook
Saw them float into the tunnel
Maybe further towards Vättern****
And the canal to Nordsjön
Over the waves to Ireland
Out to sea and then blow
Away and never return
To the brook
Where it started
[Verse 9]
I see the cream color
The modern but discreet
A completeness makes the simple
Just fold up and screw
But still always something
Who wanted to hunt and confuse
Something which isn't Ikea
Something which didn't have the solution
On the edge
[Verse 10]
I hear the smoked sound
From a studio by the train station
Among dispatch premises
And forgotten depots
The mute, dull skin
And the bass who makes the bars rattle
And the glass and it smells
Just like asphalt does
In autumn
[Verse 11]
We hid the porn magazine underneath the rock
Willes wine in the bush
The entire grove was a micro-Vegas
The barn changed locks
And above it all a sky
Almost strained from the coast
With the little which was left
After the waves and the storms
And the foam
[Verse 12]
I can't return
A crime scene has to rest
The get away car is dumped
The cash is clean
We're now building a new home
Starting up and starting over
The broken ground is chasing me
But I'm not there
- Artist:Lars Winnerbäck