[Intro: Barbershop Quartet, xylophone, accordion] (spoken) Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the flattest place on Earth. Where the national sport is waiting for summer. And losing. (barbershop harmony) Bum bum bum bum... moo? [Verse 1] Your whole country looks like a dropped pancake Highest point is a speed bump by a lake The sky is grey from birth to grave You call it weather, I call it a wave Of seasonal sadness with a flag on top Where the biggest thrill is a candy shop You bike through rain, you bike through rain You bike through sleet, you bike through sleet You bike through feelings you can't complete [Pre-Chorus] And the taxes take your money, then they take your mood Then they tax the little voice that says you're screwed You pay for the road, you pay for the air You pay just to stand there and pretend you care [Chorus] Denmark, Denmark, flat and weird A rainy little puddle that you volunteered You bike through the rain and you don't ask why You say you're the happiest, and I think you're high Denmark, Denmark, I'm sure it's quite nice Step on a plastic brick, I'm sure it's paradise [Bridge] Flatland! Flatland! Hey hey hey! [Verse 2] Your breakfast is a fish and a piece of bread Your dinner is a potato that wished it was dead Your national dish is a cold regret And a little bit of pickled threat Your castles are cute, your history's short You peaked when you burned a bunch of boats for sport Now your biggest export is a plastic block That attacks your foot at 3 o'clock [Pre-Chorus] And your winter is dark, your summer is damp Your national anthem is a leg cramp You say you're happy, but I've seen the stare It's the look of a people who lost their chair [Chorus] Denmark, Denmark, flat and weird A rainy little puddle that you volunteered You bike through the rain and you don't ask why You say you're the happiest, and I think you're high Denmark, Denmark, I'm sure it's quite nice Step on a plastic brick, I'm sure it's paradise [Guitar? no guitar? EDM build] [Build] Three, two, one, get sad! (white noise sweep) when you talk, it's a medical event A throat full of marbles and a cough you resent You say a whole sentence, it sounds like one word You swallowed a potato was all the audience heard A vowel get kidnapped, a consonant die You smile and you nod like we all understood why You don't need enemies, you got your own weather... And a tiny plastic brick that hurts forever. [Bridge] Step on a brick! Aaaagh! [Outro: Barbershop Quartet, xylophone, accordion, fade] (spoken) So yeah. That's the roast. No hard feelings. Actually, some hard feelings. Mostly in the foot. (barbershop) Bum bum bum bum... moo. (EDM kick stops)
