Verden Går Til Helvete, Tralala - Janove

Eg vært i bånn av heile verden

Gått til enden av kver kanal

Hatt trippelvakt, gått natteskift

Og reist at og fram og tilbars

Det strir imot fornuft at eg har visst det skal gå galt

Så nå forteller eg deg nøyaktig

Som det blei meg fortalt

Verden går til helvete, tralala

Må me snu om det skal enda bra?`

Som en vis mann til meg en gong sa

Pakk dine triks og stikk av i morgen den dag

Men før du drar, tralala

Fortell dine venner om i morgen

Finns det en kur?

Abrakadabra!

Verden går til helvete, tralalala

Det blir konfetti og raketter

Allsang i kver en bar

Små retter på servietter

Det kommer til å bli fullt ned på Togterminalen

Det blir heller ingen forvarsel i en busk som til Moses

For fem tusen år tilbars

Bare meg som blei sendt her til deg

For å sei det nøyaktig som det blei meg fortalt

Han er en kunstner, en artist som kryper inn til deg i søvn

Planter sine frø og gjør mareritt av drøm

Det står skrevet over heile veggen

At verden er trist og sjuk av angst

Men ikkje skyt en mellommann

Dette budskapet er ikkje mitt, det er hans

Ved midnatt er det tid

Sett deg på taket for orkesterplass

Me skal blåsa opp ballonger

Og sjå på fallet av hans mesterverk

Den som er ung, den skal bli gammel

Sånn går det med kver og en av oss

I morgen sitter me fortsatt her på taket

Og vår pust har blitt til frost

Du ga meg et tips

Eg lærte meg dine triks

I trappene på et knips

I've been banned from the whole world

Gone to the end of each channel

Had triple guard, gone night shift

And raised that and back and forth

It is against reason that I knew it was going to go wrong

So now I'm telling you exactly

As I was told

The world goes to hell, tralala

Do we have to turn around if it's going to be even better? `

As a wise man to me once said

Pack your tricks and run off tomorrow that day

But before you go, tralala

Tell your friends about tomorrow

Is there a cure?

Abrakadabra!

The world goes to hell, tralalala

There will be confetti and rockets

Singing in every bar

Small dishes on napkins

It will be full down at the Train Terminal

There is also no warning in a bush like Moses

For five thousand years was born

Only me who was sent here to you

To say it exactly as I was told

He's an artist, an artist who crawls into your sleep

Plant their seeds and make the nightmare of a dream

It is written all over the wall

That the world is sad and sick with anxiety

But do not shoot a middleman

This message is not mine, it's his

At midnight it's time

Sit on the roof of the orchestra place

We'm going to inflate balloons

And look at the fall of his masterpiece

He who is young, let him grow old

This is how it goes with kver and one of us

Tomorrow I'm still sitting here on the roof

And our breath has turned to frost

You gave me a tip

I learned your tricks

In the stairs at a glance