OM Å DANSE BEKHETTE
Det var mye som var vondt og mye som var gæli
Men en gang i tia, så dansa dem bekhette
Var dem plaga grådig av skurv, og ikke orka å leva
Det var en liten legdegutt
Og alt dem skrubba
Så vart'n ikke rein
Dem bekabredde heile huet på'n
Og han fikk slik ei lue
Som skulle sitta heilt tel'a hadde vøksi fast
Dem hadde en tom i taket
Og en i lua au
Dem stelte gutten oppå en stol
Men den sparka dem vekk under beina på'n
Da vart både hår og hud rivi tor skallen på'n
Og bare raude kjøttet var att
Dem måtte gjøra det sånn sies det
For hadde dem drii smått, hadde'n ikke tålt det
Å'n budde, og å'n hette, det var glemt for lenge sia
Dem brydde seg ikke om å husse legdegutt, kan du veta
Men håret og huden, det fekk'n att
Translation:
TO DANCE WITH THE PITCH-HOOD
Many things were bad and many others were crazy
But once they make them dance with the pitch-hood
They were fiercely tormented by the ringworm, and didn't desire to live on
There was a harvest-boy
And however they scrubbed him
They didn't manage to clean him
They smeared the whole head with pitch
And put a cap on him
That should stay until all firmly overgrown
They had a hook on the ceiling
And one on the cap too
They fixed the boy on a chair
But kicked it away from below his legs
Both hair and skin were torn off the boy's skull
And only red flesh was left
They said they had to do like this
Because if they had to do it meticulously, he would have never tolerated it
Where he lived, what was his name, this was forgotten time ago
They didn't care to remember a harvest-boy, you know
But hair and skin, they grew again
Det var mye som var vondt og mye som var gæli
Men en gang i tia, så dansa dem bekhette
Var dem plaga grådig av skurv, og ikke orka å leva
Det var en liten legdegutt
Og alt dem skrubba
Så vart'n ikke rein
Dem bekabredde heile huet på'n
Og han fikk slik ei lue
Som skulle sitta heilt tel'a hadde vøksi fast
Dem hadde en tom i taket
Og en i lua au
Dem stelte gutten oppå en stol
Men den sparka dem vekk under beina på'n
Da vart både hår og hud rivi tor skallen på'n
Og bare raude kjøttet var att
Dem måtte gjøra det sånn sies det
For hadde dem drii smått, hadde'n ikke tålt det
Å'n budde, og å'n hette, det var glemt for lenge sia
Dem brydde seg ikke om å husse legdegutt, kan du veta
Men håret og huden, det fekk'n att
Translation:
TO DANCE WITH THE PITCH-HOOD
Many things were bad and many others were crazy
But once they make them dance with the pitch-hood
They were fiercely tormented by the ringworm, and didn't desire to live on
There was a harvest-boy
And however they scrubbed him
They didn't manage to clean him
They smeared the whole head with pitch
And put a cap on him
That should stay until all firmly overgrown
They had a hook on the ceiling
And one on the cap too
They fixed the boy on a chair
But kicked it away from below his legs
Both hair and skin were torn off the boy's skull
And only red flesh was left
They said they had to do like this
Because if they had to do it meticulously, he would have never tolerated it
Where he lived, what was his name, this was forgotten time ago
They didn't care to remember a harvest-boy, you know
But hair and skin, they grew again