Lyrics of Kongen Af Provinsen - Peter Belli, Per Vers

Kongen Af Provinsen (original)

Derude hvor kragerne vender
Er der en konge
Yeah yeah yeah
I mørket er lys som han tænder
Rejs jer for kongen
Yeah yeah yeah]
Vers 1:
Han er kongen
Der aldrig flyttede fra hjemmebanen til betonen
Blev dér hvor det året rundt er udenfor sæsonen
Og satsede hele dynen, hver eneste jeton
Ligeglad med statistikken og kronikken i Politiken
Om at der something rotten i bananrepublikken
Fuck tudebanden, der kalder det udkanten
Han holder stand og er ikk' mæ' på studehandlen
Engang var her så pænt, og der var penge at tjene
Men så blev der indlagt dræn
Busforbindelsen har fået en blodprop
Kultur på sultekur men han holder sit hoved op
For han er vant til at vente
Men tæsk er ekstra træls når der tre kvarter til en landbetjent
Han bli’r hængende, det gør ham ikk' til hængerøv
Det gør ham til en konge, kongen længe leve
Vers 2:
Vi stiller om til vores mand i marken
Marken er mejet meget langt væk, men han kan sagtens
Selvom de sagde han ikke ku'
Og havde eet råd: det ka' ikk' nytt' du ska' flyt' hvis du bli’e til noget!
For ifølge ny forskning er yderligere forskning overflødig
Hans fødeegn er underlødig
Men kære landsmænd, lyttere og seere
Firs procent af folket bor hér!
Man danser om den varme grød, i en foxtrot af smalltalk
Det ‘en herrepopulær holdsport
For det er forbudt at sige — lissom «Voldemort»
Men alle tænker det — fra Lolland og til nord for Aalborg:
«Her hvor vi bor er ingen kære mor
Borgmester eller bedstemor;
Ingen syg moster, ingen investorer»
It’s the same ol' song
Men han nægter at synge med, det ‘derfor han er kong'!

(translation)

Out there where the crows turn
Is there a king
Yeah yeah yeah
In the dark is light as he turns on
Arise for the king
Yeah yeah yeah]
Verse 1:
He is the king
Who never moved from the home court to the concrete
Stayed where it is out of season all year round
And bet the whole quilt, every single token
Do not care about the statistics and the article in Politiken
About that something rotten in the Banana Republic
Fuck the spout gang that calls it the fringe
He holds his own and is not a 'must' at the student trade
Once upon a time here was so nice and there was money to be made
But then drains were installed
The bus connection has got a blood clot
Culture on hunger cure but he keeps his head up
Because he's used to waiting
But beatings are extra tiring when there are three quarters of an hour for a land officer
He gets hung up, it does not make him a hangover
It makes him a king, the king long live
Verse 2:
We turn to our man in the field
The field is mowed very far away, but he can easily
Even though they said he could not
And had one piece of advice: it's not 'new' you should 'move' if you become something!
Because according to new research, further research is superfluous
His birthplace is inferior
But dear countrymen, listeners and viewers
Eighty percent of the people live here!
One dances around the hot porridge, in a foxtrot of smalltalk
It's a men's popular team sport
For it is forbidden to say - like «Voldemort»
But everyone thinks so - from Lolland to north of Aalborg:
"Here where we live is no dear mother
Mayor or grandmother;
No sick aunt, no investors »
It's the same ol 'song
But he refuses to sing along, that 'why he is king'!