There once was a house on Norrebro, at Jagtvej 69. An old and historic building, facing the Assistens Cemetery. It was given to the youth by the city a couple of mayors ago. Concerts were held, creative careers was sparked, and a lot of noise was made. Then the city took the house back, and sold it to a religious sect. The kids refused to go, funds were raised, and a top lawyer volunteered to speak their case. Endless meetings were held, to try and reconcile, and buy the house back. But the religious leader stood firm, positioning herself in the spotlight as the Unbending Holy Mother.
Eventually the police cleaned the place out, and the house that was not for sale, was torn down. And then all hell broke loose. Cars was set on fire, windows bashed in, police was attacked with cobblestones and bottles, and there was fire in the streets. The neighbourhood was terrorised, and local businesses suffered. It got increasingly harder to feel sorry for the kids, as they brought war to the very neighbours who supported their claim to begin with.
The streets was flooded with hooded and masked supporters, many foreign, and the following weeks brought demonstrations, and more violence. As things finally settled down, the kids were relocated a little further from the centre. The Unbending Holy Mother never used the ground for anything, and today all there is left is a scar, named Ground Zero.
As Norrebro businesses boarded their windows, this was the only one getting creative.
Like you needed another reason to love
Hot Kotyr. Sign reads: look in and see the light.
(liar liar) pants on fire