She run off with a Norski
Come home from fishin’ and my woman was gone.
She took my fjord horse and every goat on the farm,
But the worst thing is she run off with a Norski.
A six-four Viking with his own long boat,
Broadsword, battle ax, and a bear skin coat.
Lord, I just can’t believe she’s run off with a Norski.
The whole village knows how I treated her good,
Bought her a loom to weave wool, a maul to split wood,
And she give up all that to run off with a Norski.
I told her we was gonna have nine children or more
To help her work the farm, clean fish, scrub the floor,
But she throwed her life away to run off with a Norski.
Lookin’ back I recall she said wanted to be
A warrior maiden sailin’ ’cross the North Sea
Stealin’ gold and slaves and fightin’ like a Norski.
I told her, woman get them thoughts outta your head,
You’re a farm wife born to milk goats and bake bread,
And you ain’t got it in you to run off with some Norski.
But now I come home and the hearth fire is out.
There’s a note on the door so there ain’t no doubt
She’s left me for good and run off with a Norski.
My Pa don’t seem to care and neither does Gramp,
They say, “We told you not to marry that Norwegian tramp!”
“You should have known someday she’d run off with a Norski.”
More essays and stories about life in the North Country are published in my six collections of essays, available through Amazon.com at Jerry Johnson Author Page