Lyrics of Gi' mig Danmark tilbage - Natasja

Gi' mig Danmark tilbage (original)

Ey danmark, hvad sker der for dig?
Jeg savner dig, jeg vil ha' dig tilbage,
ligesom i de gamle dage hvor en spa’e var en s. YO!
Jeg vil ha' dig tilbage,
ligesom i de gamle dage hvor en fri fugl var fri,
og hvor man mente hvad man sae'.
Ey Danmark, jeg savner dig.
Jeg freaking fucking savner dig.
Du skræmmer mig,
jeg vil ha dig tilbage, for jeg græmmer mig.
Jeg kan se det ske, det' ak det' ve.
Det' Satan og han lægger kræfterne i,
Det' nat over dag.
Det' bæ over ble.
Det' død over liv.
Det' træl over fri
Det' kød på kniv.
Det' råb, det' skrig.
Det ligner en krig, og det' spild af politi.
Det' dødeligt giftigt, min urtete,
Og det' noget de kan li' i det danske parti,
Helt fucked up på sne.,
Woow, sagde jeg det?
Meget skal man høre, Gud bevare mit humør.
Så ta' lidt luft.
Kom til fornuft, og prøv og fat det.
At Staden den var fin, og de vil aldrig ku' erstat den.
Hele folket blev til grin fra den dag da de besat' den.
Nu' det værre end det vilde vest, det ku' vi ha' fortalt dem.
Så gir de ungdomshuset væk til en fanatisk sæk,
med et kors i røven, hvor er det frækt.
Gi' mig mit land tilbage, ligesom i de gamle dage.
Gi' mig frisindet igen, der lurer under byens tage.
Gi' mig København igen, min farverige gamle ven.
Gi' mig ungeren igen.
Vi vil ha ungeren igen!
Fjern heroin fra Istedgade og la' Staden være.
Hvis du stammer garnet, yo, så be’r du om ballade.
Det' snak, det' snik.
Det' top retorik.
Det' ik politik.
Det pis og polemik.
Her kører det fedt, så vi keder os lidt.
Vi har indsigt, hvad med et U-lands kick.
Yo, flåden er slidt, børn er fallit
Tro mig i Danmark der var vi det fint.
Så ufatteligt godt at det er vores pligt,
At gøre noget godt, der hvor det' skidt
Verden er vor fremtid men vi fatter det ik.
Vi har for travlt med at forpurre vores egen butik.
Så gi' mig mit Danmark tilbage, ligesom i de gamle dage.
Gi' mig frisindet igen, der lurer under byens tage.
Gi' mig København igen, min farverige gamle ven.
Gi' mig ungeren igen.
Vi vil ha ungeren igen!
Fjern heroin fra Istedgade og lad Staden være.
Hvis du strammer garnet, yo, så be’r du om ballade.
En helt unik energi.
Men se økonomi er ganske fri for
empati, har ingen pli.
Ekshippier, skabsrygere der vælger at tie.
Kom nu i gang i har vidst noget i skal sige.
Rødvin og piller, hele fucking landet chiller, ungdommen bli’r vildere.
Flere og flere sniffer sniffer kokain fra Cap Horn til Berlin.
Yo, et junkfrit røgmarked er en rimelig sjælden ting.
Men vi havde et.
Meget skal man høre, Gud bevare mit humør.
Tror de selv at de kan lægge byen tør?
Se toppen fatter ik' en dør af hvad de gør.
Sådan vil det være, sådan har det altid været før.
Det sprog vi taler hedder kroner og ører.
Og en grådig mand har aldrig været svær at forføre.
Se grådighed går hånd i hånd med magt.
Og større vil ha større, mere vil ha mere.
Staten er jo helt op' og køre.
Ta' lidt luft.
Kom det fornuft og prøv og fat det.
At Danmark har det fint, og USA ka' ik' erstat' det.
Gi mig' ungeren igen, vi vil ha ungeren igen.
Gi' mig København igen, min farverige gamle ven.
Gi' mig frisindet igen, vi vil ha frisindet igen.
Gi' mig Danmark tilbage ligesom i de gamle dage.
Få lidt styr på Istedgade og la' Staden være.
Hvis du strammer garnet, yo, så kvæler du jo barnet.
Jeg savner dig jeg vil ha' dig tilbage,
Ligesom i de gamle dage hvor en spa’e var en s. yo!
Jeg vil ha dig tilbage ligesom i de gamle dage,
Hvor en fri fugl var fri og hvor man mente hvad man sagde.
Ey, gi mig mit Rabalderstræde og få styr på Istedgade.
Arh, kom nu for fanden!

(translation)

Ey denmark, what happens to you?
I miss you, I want you back,
just like in the old days when a spa was a p. YO!
I want you back,
just like in the old days when a free bird was free,
and where one meant what one saw '.
Ey Denmark, I miss you.
I freaking fucking miss you.
You scare me,
I want you back, because I'm annoyed.
I can see it happening, it 'ak it' ve.
It 'Satan and he put their efforts in,
It 'night over day.
It 'bæ over was.
It 'death over life.
It 'slave over free
It 'meat on knife.
It 'shouts, it' screams.
It looks like a war, and it's a waste of police.
It's deadly poisonous, my herbal tea,
And that 'something they like' in the Danish party,
Totally fucked up on snow.,
Woow, did I say that?
Much to be heard, God preserve my mood.
So take some air.
Come to your senses, and try and grasp it.
That the city it was fine, and they will never be able to replace it.
The whole people laughed at the day they occupied it.
Now it's worse than the Wild West, that's what we've told them.
Then they give the youth house away to a fanatical sack,
with a cross in the ass, where is it naughty.
Give me back my land, just like in the old days.
Give me the freedom again that lurks under the roofs of the city.
Give me Copenhagen again, my colorful old friend.
Give me the kid again.
We want the kid again!
Remove heroin from Istedgade and leave the city alone.
If you strain the yarn, yo, you're asking for trouble.
It 'talk, it' sneaks.
It's top rhetoric.
It's not politics.
That piss and controversy.
Here it runs fat, so we get a little bored.
We have insight into what a U-country kick is.
Yo, the fleet is worn out, kids are bankrupt
Believe me in Denmark there we were fine.
So unbelievably good that it is our duty,
To do something good where it's bad
The world is our future but we do not understand it.
We're too busy thwarting our own store.
Then give me back my Denmark, just like in the old days.
Give me the freedom again that lurks under the roofs of the city.
Give me Copenhagen again, my colorful old friend.
Give me the kid again.
We want the kid again!
Remove heroin from Istedgade and leave the City alone.
If you're tightening the yarn, yo, you're asking for trouble.
A completely unique energy.
But see economy is pretty free
empathy, has no pli.
Ex-hippies, closet smokers who choose to keep quiet.
Get started now you know something you have to say.
Red wine and pills, the whole fucking country chiller, the youth gets wilder.
More and more sniffers sniff cocaine from Cap Horn to Berlin.
Yo, a junk-free smoke market is a reasonably rare thing.
But we had one.
Much to be heard, God preserve my mood.
Do they even think they can put the city dry?
See the top does not grasp a door of what they do.
This is how it will be, this is how it has always been before.
The language we speak is called crowns and ears.
And a greedy man has never been hard to seduce.
See greed go hand in hand with power.
And bigger wants bigger, more wants more.
The state is completely up and running.
Take some air.
Make sense and try and grasp it.
That Denmark is fine, and the United States can 'not' replace 'it.
Give me the kid again, we want the kid again.
Give me Copenhagen again, my colorful old friend.
Give me the freedom again, we want the freedom again.
Give me Denmark back like in the old days.
Get some control of Istedgade and leave the city alone.
If you tighten the yarn, yo, you'll suffocate the baby.
I miss you I want you back,
Just like in the old days when a spa was a s. Yo!
I want you back just like in the old days,
Where a free bird was free and where one meant what one said.
Ey, give me my Rabalderstræde and get control of Istedgade.
Arh, come on fuck!