Based on Bosnia and Herzegovina 2012

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Cold, my face is numb
Colossal gloves, looking foolish
Could they be so dumb
They think I’m Greek, maybe Kurdish
In Sveg, the village where I am
I often think of Tuzla
In Sveg, exciting day means jam
As filling in your bullar

Cold necessitates
Conduct strict-regulated
Not one bus comes late
No driver intoxicated
One girl said: “you should comprehend”
“How great life smoothly running”
But no, disorder is my friend
The clockwork’s so confining

They love my “quality tan”
Swedes think I’m real exotic treasure
To be esteemed, understand,
For where I’m from gives me no pleasure
Transformed my hair blonde, and straight for good measure
Knowing deep inside I can’t fit in ‒ a stranger.
Eh..

Oooh, aaah
Their men do nothing for me much
With their dull, hairless bodies
God, I need to scrap that reindeer meat
It makes ghastly ćevapi

Yet all my relatives claim
I look more Swede than I imagine
For we crave Fika the same
Our puffy overcoats are matching
Camouflaged
Camouflaged
Oooh, aaah

Cold, my face is numb