S.O.B.
Yeah thanks!
Hey, yo
chorus:
________________
Where you from?
[Where you from?!?]
-I'm from the harbor
Where' you from?
[Where' you from?!?]
-I'm from the harbor
________________
[Verse 1 ]
Yo, I'm from the harbor
We're talking about Denmark's answer to Amsterdam
Where you can get everything when things are tight
Where you're either a sailor or in ShowBiz< br/>Where it says S.O.B. on your togpiece
Where we enjoy the atmosphere of the evening bar
Where you can get everything your lungs desire
Where there is money where it shouldn't be
Where you do wise not to meddle in other people's affairs
There where we say, "Now again?", when the police storm
There where a ho runs for a seat number
There where you often see legends like Einar
There where boys from Amager push a bed-diner
There where every street has its own zip code
and every beaver thing it is creepy and cozy
There where little boys have gangster attitudes
The part of Copenhagen where it's not full of Jyders
Where there is topless service for the beer
and a big screen, every other Sunday down on the bully
There live , yo homie, throw up an H
and when there's a ball, I wanna see everybody stand up
Chorus
[Verse 2]
Yo I'm from the harbor
Where the trendy hang out
Where supermodels
They throw their poles
In a beach chair down by the air food address
Where Jokerino seeks shelter from the press
Where Black Sol making hits in a bunker
under the ground underground the shit works
Where people
Doing circle kicks like Jet Lii'
Where people take the channel on a jet ski
Where people expose their children to violence
Where the last hippie was put to death
But it's still here
They can't kill us
So we greet our government with screw yourself!
Chorus
[Verse 3]
Yo I'm from the harbor
Where there's an anchor in the chains
Where there's low profile on all the places
Where we follow in M. Mogensen's footsteps
Where eaterrats always have a good table
And the bastion celebrates the next day
Where we fix anything down at Hekla
Where boys and girls burst out like lazy caterpillars
Where our walls have memories and colors
Where we have both Opera and the Opera
Where soprano does not sing soprano
But we're still really a market town
Say what you want
Because I don't fucking care
Because we're not impressed by anyone
Where you can live a lifetime without crossing the bridge
There where it's on and nothing stays for the moment
The last neighborhood that hasn't surrendered
Chorus X2

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