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von Turbonegro

I think I'm an all around Norwegian
On my eighteenth birthday
My daddy gave me a gun
And I am what you'd call
A real good sport
And I was born and raised
In a trailor court

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My neighborhood's got the distinction
Of being all the same
There are rows and rows
Of divorcees in a metal frame
My life goes on - It's my last resort
And I'm gonna die - In a trailor court

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OH NO!

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Now do you see just a little bit of a paradox
You're living or dead
You're stuck in a box
Your life goes on - It's your last resort
On a dead end road - In a trailor court

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