Luka

Eg var ad komast ad thvi hve oendanlega sljor eg get verid. Eg hef hlustad a lagid "Luka", eftir Suzanne Vega, mjög oft upp a sidkastid, i flutningi Hildar Völu, en eg gaf aldrei gaum ad thvi, um hvad lagid fjalladi. Lagid er mjög fallegt, en eg er enn hrifanari af thvi nuna, thar sem vid greindum texta thess i enskutima um daginn.

Lagid fjallar nefnilega um heimilsofbledi, sem sa sem syngur, Luka, verdur fyrir. Textinn er mjög djupur og a ad minu mati tilkall til allra.

My name is Luka
I live on the second floor
I live upstairs from you
Yes I think you've seen me before
If you hear something late at night
Some kind of trouble, some kind of fight
Just don't ask me what it was
Just don't ask me what it wasJ
Just don't ask me what it was

I think it's because I'm clumsy
I try not to talk too loud
Maybe it's because I'm crazy
I try not to act too proud
They only hit until you cry
And after that you don't ask why
You just don't argue anymore
You just don't argue anymore
You just don't argue anymore

Yes I think I'm okay
I walked into the door again
Well, if you ask that's what I'll say
And it's not your business anyway
I guess I'd like to be alone
With nothing broken, nothing thrown
Just don't ask me how I am
Just don't ask me how I am
Just don't ask me how I am