Benny Toledo - Ballerina Queen
(S. Tønnesen)

Turned right on E16 after the bend

The river’s turmoil glitters as it’ll pass the oversight

Of a fort that preys a city it won’t defend

And a backseat princess warmed by the sunlight

 

We park the car and skip down the boardwalk

With an energy of someone who’ve just left a cottage

Like endurance of bone marrow turned to chalk

Functions parental fatigue as entourage

 

Piercing nails of frantic yells

Just echoes from the past

On a tainted slate I’m hoping to last

 

Kneel to the Crown

Ballerina chicks, your queen has entered town

Knees to the ground

You’ll be dead before you fool this bitch around

Tiny little finger she wraps me around

 

Just sing my songs then click the switch for lights

Her messy blond hair smoldering soon as the bulbs fade out

As her breathing shows acceptance of the night

The silence of the house shreds any doubt

 

Piercing stings of moments

Of the days already passed

And the small embraces I hope forever last

 

Kneel to the Crown

Ballerina chicks, your queen has entered town

Heels off the ground

You’ll be dead before you fool this bitch around

Tiny little finger she wraps me around

 

Piercing stings of moments

From the years already passed

Of an innocence I know will never last

 

Kneel to the Crown

Ballerina chicks, your queen has entered town

Heels off the ground

You’ll be dead before you fool this bitch around

Tiny little finger she wraps me around

Miami Device ft. The Admiral & Gcell - Honda Civic
(S. Tønnesen, K. Renton)  

 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

We could run up tight if you’re not a critic

Down on the couch like a psychoanalytic

Cool wind in our hair while the night is magic

 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

Spitting out some jokes anti-Semitic

Clouds over the town are just blue electric 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

 

Cruise a white line on a Honda- mirror

Tropane alkaloid makes the mind seem clearer

Bitches run around while the dick gets bigger

Bitches run around while the dick gets bitter

 

Take a flour sniff, instead of gear shift

A fucking silver sedan with automatic

I got the window shades, I got the eyes shades

Riding on beautiful rims like fucking chromed blades

 

I’m going medieval on fucking Snapchat

Going like Bruce Almighty Wayne or the ManBat

Or was it Batman,?
I’ve got the better tan

‘Cause I’m from Fla.. ; I’m a Device, man

 

I know the handshakes, I know the Mandrakes

I got the twenty or some to know the females

I like to BBQ, listening to Motley Crue

But still can mellow it down to Madonna’s True Blue

 

I don’t like handguns, they like a bad pun

My enemies prefer my sawed off shotgun

They know my deadly kiss, they know I mostly miss

I’m like the internet: enjoy a spray of piss

 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

We could run up tight if you’re not a critic

Down on the couch like a psychoanalytic

Cool wind in our hair while the night is magic

 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

Spitting out some jokes anti-Semitic

Clouds over the town are just blue electric

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

 

Cruise a white line in a Honda- mirror

Tropane alkaloid makes the mind seem clearer

Bitches run around while the dick gets bigger

Bitches run around while the dick gets bitter

 

Get your seatbelts on

This is the Admiral

Bitches,  welcome to Miami

 

I used to be a little bitch runnin’ around in a Civic

Now I’m the baddest motherfucker runnin’ round in a Civic

I never slow down for old peeps or fucking school kids walkin’, not the lines around my body they be doin’ some chalkin’

  

I’ve got the headlights, while getting light head

Throw in some presidents, I’ll get a twin bed

Where we could get it on, like fuckin’ crazy

Or just makin’ some love like Patrick Swayze

 

‘Coming over from Cali, bitches be packin’ some heat

We gotta Florida-welcome, an alligator-treat,

We got flamingo hustle, or the Orlando-cheat

Or just a Honda Civic doing the Miami-beat

 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

We could run up tight if you’re not a critic

Down on the couch like a psychoanalytic

Cool wind in our hair while the night is magic

 

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

Spitting out some jokes anti-Semitic

Clouds over the town are just blue electric

Bitches runnin’ round in a Honda Civic

 

That’s it bitches, we did it again!
We’re a fucking a genius!

This was the Device 2014

Still no competition

We still holdin’ it down

Holla!

 

 

The Fingered Chords - For Every Unfelt Sorrow
(S. Tønnesen, S. Fagerlid, O. Hagen)

Color Line

You got lost in the silver mine

Paralyzed by some tax-free wine

Will I ever know you?

 

Love, they say

Twists and turns in a funny way

Just a game you are bound to play

Either way you will loose

 

Chills before the sun kills

Choose the other one

Be the mother of my bastard son

 

Scattered trays

Between chairs on a ship’s buffet

Hundred stares while room fades away

Carpet flooring’s by tears

 

Once we were

The only thing that I would compare

To morning wood or a breath of air

 

Trompetistens Rettferdige Harme - PAPPAIDA
(I. F. Tønnesen)

Pappa, pappa, pappa, pappa
Ida!
Pappa, pappa, pappa, pappa
Ida!

Benny Toledo - Party Pants
(S. Tønnesen)

There’s a party in my pants and you’re invited
Neon sign is flashing “vacancy “
There’s a party in my pants and you’re invited
BBQ and punchbowl is on me

Directions found on my Facebook-wall
Or just take bus 363
These pants were made for party
Come share them with me

There’s a party in my pants, you’re all invited;
Heterosexual shemales and newbies
So leave the gift back at your house
But show up packing
Party has just one admission fee

My credit card covers Spotify
So the soundtrack is under control
A little jazzy at first, then we go rock n’roll

Strictly beginners
We live and we learn
Give the pants the love that they yearn
Room filled with sinners
Nude, sweaty but stern
STD’s follow carpet burns
Carpet burns….

There’s a party in my pants and you’re invited
Skip the nightcap and go straight booty
There’s a party in my pants and you’re invited
I’m the last tip of humanity

I’ve got mechanical air withdrawal
To reduce humidity
Our love will pour endlessly
Cum party with me

Farmasi - Haterade
(S. Tønnesen)