So let me send out a greeting
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You will find me on line 2 towards Ellingsrud
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Gets off at Furuset Senter where the guys hang out
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I'm with people who are always doing something, have some nonsense going on
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Meet me at Tøyenbadet summer night with a hole in the fence
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It is rare that anything is further away than the telephone
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There is always someone who knows someone who knows someone
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Of all the big cities in the world, Oslo is probably the smallest
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This is where I feel at home, this is my city
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My boys are from all over the country
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From boy to man on these roads, and now a father
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Oslo is a mix of all kinds of people who live here
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And it is this mix that makes my city what it is
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You can find me in Torggata at night
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I wiggle around the Old Town in my hat
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I found my princess among Haugenstua's blocks, won't it
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Move from here even if they offer me half the kingdom
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Then you can hear the city breathing in
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You will find me with my hat down in the isle in the back of your bus
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I'm so Oslo you can call me Halvard
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Sinsen, Disen, Kampen, Gransdalen
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And they listen to me everywhere
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Mortensrud to Ammerud, the whole town edge to edge |
I'm so Oslo you can call me Nilsen
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So let me send out a greeting
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Two thousand and one nights over Oslo East
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So many votes that together become Oslo's voice
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As if the story was told by Scheherazade
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It is about thugs, about heroism and more about a lot
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And everyone knows where my heart is
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They say no love happens completely painlessly
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They say the city has a heart that is cold as ice
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That everything here can be obtained for the right price
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Who thinks of the beggars here and their should?
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There are more people who talk to themselves in the city than before
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Nobody has said that everything is perfect here in the city
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And it is clear that it can be cold on a winter night
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Tøyen has been Tøyen the same For a hundred years
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It is not about color but about poverty and living conditions
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From they were sent from No.13 away to No.19
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Has this been a city that splits roughly down the middle
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Then you can hear the city breathing in
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You will find me with my hat down in the isle in the back of your bus
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I'm so Oslo you can call me Halvard
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Lompa, Barong, Beckers, Gamla
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And they listen to me everywhere
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Ensjø to Ellingsrud, the whole town edge to edge |