Looming over deep dug dale
with wending fjord below,
the Pulpit Rock stands over all
in Norway's chilling snow.

A sunny day it was that time
when I fared with my kin.
Up the Pulpit Rock we marched,
met with glory's din.

Imagine now, a cloudless sky
with sapphire blue abounding;
folk from far and wide had come;
the beauty was astounding.

That ancient Northern land in front,
home to the god of thunder.
Though sweat dripped from our weary brow,
we stood and basked in wonder.

So if you've never hiked that way,
you're in for quite a shock.
You'll find a world beyond your own
upon the Pulpit Rock.

NORWAY MUSIC
Sat here in my flat I think of Norway,
of all the places I’ve seen there and the bands –
Gaate, Blood Red Throne, Satyricon, Amulet and more.
To my Norse gothic bands I’ve seen here in England –
Mortiis, Madder Mortem, Leaves Eyes, Octavia and Tristania.
How I love it and can’t get enough of them.
When will Sirenia come gig here?
Norway and your music, I love you very much.

Well it seems that one million miles from my home
where the water is clear and the valleys are gold
And the land that is really home to me
is all the way across the sea

I hold in my hand my soul and my fate
I try to use gold when lead would be great
I can tell even though I cannot see
The land that I care for is full of beauty

The old me is gone and I miss his laugh
But he's captive now in a photograph
And the many great things I could have seen here
have vanished with time and gone with the years

Ive looked through the sky and fallen like rain
the place that I landed was never explained
the mobile I was given from a drunken clown
painted my smile just like his cold frown

for how far I've traveled Im in the same place
sometimes I doubt life isn't a race
and even with all the trips round the sun
time can **** pain just as good as a gun

The last weeks have been strange
some days felt like spring
while others felt like autumn
there were even days that felt like winter
Have we skipped summer?

I have this theory that butterflies taste like bubblegum.

When I was a kid, my tongue was a permanent shade of bright pink.  Shoving as many pieces of BubbleYum into my mouth as I could fit was the epitome of happiness, and when I could fit an entire package at once I knew there was nothing I couldn’t achieve.

And I’m sure that right now if you cut me open my stomach would be a fluorescent pink, because
when I see your face in my mind as I’m sitting in class or
when your name is on my tongue before I fall asleep,
that’s what it tastes like.

Bubblegum.

But please don’t cut me open. My dissection would be too ****** anyway, and far too colorful to detect butterflies…
Because my blood runs red, white, and blue.
When I was younger my mom would always tell me that as I grew older my tastes would change.  Of course, she meant that eventually I would grow to like peas, but even though that still hasn’t happened, she was right.  

Back then red, white and blue tasted like
      hamburgers
               and apple pie
                       and baseball.  

But just recently I cut my finger –
and as I brought it to my lips I tasted
      lingonberries
               and fish and
                        skiing.


Have you ever wondered why blood tastes like metal?  It is the
SWORDS and SHIELDS
that flow through my veins,
passed down from ancestors of millennia past.  And every time I am injured it pours out in protest, those ancient warriors urging me to fight against this strange land and this strange culture.
I was born away from home, as were my parents and grandparents before me. And as I feel the shapes of foreign words in my mouth they taste like meeting an old friend. Because I’ve come to realize that my blood never ran red, white and blue.  



                                                      ­            It runs rødt, hvitt og blått.