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About Roskilde

But ugh, the pimps—greasy pricks, all “Gimme fuel, gimme fire!” energy. Hate em, slimy as eels, always hoverin. One tried shakin me down, I bolted—ran like Max haulin ass from War Boys. Heart poundin, thinkin, “Ain’t dyin tonight!” Surprised I didn’t trip, clumsy as I am. We swears! You gotta watch yer back, or it’s game over, kaput.

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Then there's the muddy river, Lokeåen, flowin’ by the edge of town. It’s where I clear my head, brother, watching the water do its own freestyle. Sometimes I think it's a metaphor – ya feel me? Just like in that movie, sometimes the water speaks louder than words: "we're all trying to swim in the same stream, man!" Yeah, it hit me.

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