I was shot in the back by Nilfisk addicted cowboys,
by jealousy struck

outnumbered by hard boiled luck,
when I showed them the lights of my
two-forty-five deep blue break
they all stood up and sang about Swedish designer drugs.

I was cutting a tree, and turning my jack into lumber,
when the hitmen arrived
on a boat from the Isle of Song
I was shocked by the
nude identical twins on my lap

a cross-eyed effect of Swedish designer drugs.
It's hard to be strong,
depending on Northern refineries.
How deep is your fjord? How shallow thy
watery eyes? How could I recupe,
surrounded by 95 dogma's?
Like a reindeer

I'm struck by Swedish designer drugs.
I'm dating the maid, and driving
electric wheelchairs.
I'm cleaning the fish
with biodegradable pride.
I was pulling the strings,
while playing the fifteenth violin,
in a director's cut of Swedish designer drugs.
I was hurting a fly, and winning all Nobely Prizes.
I was probably drunk by the probably best beer around
like a Viking in need,
I got a medal for bad underacting.

They all stood up,
and sang about Swedish designer drugs.
Swedish designer drugs: it's hard to be strong.
How deep is your fjord?
When I showed them the lights,
they all stood up, and sang about Swedish designer drugs