Lyrics of Slår Sprekker - Erik Og Kriss

Slår Sprekker (original)

Han var ungkar, en eiendomsmegler rett fra BI
Altfor opptatt av felger og fet bil med tv I
Leve livet I fartsfilen på vei mot toppen
Han vi’kke si det, men finanskrisen var tett på kroppen
Inkassobunken var høy, det samme gjeld og rente
Han var den som alltid løy om hva han egentlig tjente
Og mente VIP var virkelig viktig og ville ikke virke
Som han ikke visste hvilke merker han sku' drikke
Så litt flaks, han selger første leilighet på lenge
Tre hundre under takst, men provisjonen kunne han trenge
Vel hjemme åpnes brevene omsider
Det kan’ke stemme, er fra sjefen, masse piss om trange tider
Han drar rett ut på byen, han tømmer flaske etter flaske
Og fyren skjønner han må gjemme ansiktet bak en stram maske
Det siste glasset går ned, lister seg sakte av sted
I parken ender turen, og han legger seg ned I skje
Gi meg en flaske til, håper noen ser
Leaser staslig bil for en passasjer
Viser frem en stil som jeg ikke kler
Lyver om en mill, håper ingen vet
Lurer på hva de tenker om meg
Lurer på hva de sier om meg
Om meg — om meg — om meg — om meg (om meg)
Hva de sier om meg
De var så lykkelige, nyforelsket var de herlighet
Og sku' ta fatt på livet sammen nå, I felles leilighet
Delte drømmen som skjedde, og feiret litt I kveld
Vinket farvel til sparingen og tankene høy gjeld
Frem med dyre bobler for å feire en sprekk
I boligboblens diktatur, som plutselig var visket vekk
De hadde strukket seg langt, tre hundre mer enn maks
Unnskyldte det med at de var tre hundre under takst
De tok en omvei gjennom parken for å gå forbi
Å titte på fasaden til seksjonen de snart sku' bo I
Midt I parken må han tisse, så han blir borte
Det ha trodde var et pledd, var plutselig en hvit skjorte
Han så den sist på kontraktsmøte samme dagen
Møter meglerns livløse blikk, blir som betong I magen
Ambulansen forsvinner, de hører lyden av den
Han holder rundt henne, og myser på fasaden

(translation)

He was a bachelor, a real estate agent straight from BI
Too preoccupied with rims and fat car with tv I
Live life In the speed lane on the way to the top
He did not say that, but the financial crisis was close at hand
The collection pile was high, as were debt and interest rates
He was the one who always lied about what he really earned
And thought VIP was really important and would not work
As he did not know which brands he was going to drink
So a little luck, he sells the first apartment in a long time
Three hundred below appraised value, but he could need the commission
Once home, the letters finally open
There can be no voice, is from the boss, lots of piss about hard times
He goes straight to the city, he empties bottle after bottle
And the guy realizes he has to hide his face behind a tight mask
The last glass goes down, slowly slipping away
In the park, the trip ends, and he lies down in a spoon
Give me another bottle, hope someone sees
Leases stately car for one passenger
Showing off a style I do not wear
Lying about a mill, hope no one knows
Wondering what they think of me
Wondering what they say about me
About me - about me - about me - about me (about me)
What they say about me
They were so happy, newly in love they were glory
And should start life together now, in a shared apartment
Shared the dream that happened, and celebrated a little tonight
Waved goodbye to savings and mind high debt
Forward with expensive bubbles to celebrate a crack
In the dictatorship of the housing bubble, which was suddenly wiped away
They had stretched far, three hundred more than max
Apologized that they were three hundred below rate
They took a detour through the park to pass
To look at the facade of the section they will soon be living in
In the middle of the park he has to pee, so he disappears
What he thought was a blanket was suddenly a white shirt
He last saw it at a contract meeting the same day
Meets the broker's lifeless gaze, becomes like concrete in the stomach
The ambulance disappears, they hear the sound of it
He holds her, and squints at the facade