Utøya (Norwegian pronunciation: [ˈʉːtœʏɑ]) is an island in the Tyrifjorden lake in Hole municipality, in the county of Buskerud, Norway. The island is 10.6 hectares (26 acres), situated 500 metres (1,600 ft) off the shore, by the E16 road, about 20 km (12 mi) driving distance south of Hønefoss, and 38 km (24 mi) northwest of Oslo city centre.
Utøya is owned by the Workers' Youth League (Arbeidernes ungdomsfylking, AUF), the youth wing of the Labour Party, which holds an annual summer camp there. The island was given as a commemorative gift by Oslo Trade Union Confederation on 28 August 1950, but also serves as a camp site for other events, including other organizations' summer camps. The island is operated commercially by Utøya AS. The island was a croft until purchased by Jens Bratlie in 1893. Bratlie used the property as a summer residence until 1933 when it was purchased by Trade Union Confederation.
The island is largely forested, with some open spaces. A small pier on the east side of the island is used to ferry people to and from Utøykaia on the mainland. There are also permanent buildings. Hovedhuset ("The Main House"), Stabburet ("The Hórreo"), and Låven ("The Barn") are located together near the dock. Up on the hillside (LO-toppen) are the main campgrounds, the cafeteria building, and the sanitary building. Skolestua ("The school house") is located further south.
It's a temple for the worshipers of human decay
she'll be known to all their offspring as the queen of flies
in a mud infested ravel of a fallen house
lie the body of the woman who was never found
and the maggots eat away all sign of recognize
she'll be known to all their offspring as the queen of flies
her flesh will their shelter and her hair will be their hide
she'll be the home of pestulance, a vengance genocide
and her bones will be chalk that cleans the tidal wave
of anything organic, that's not worth to save
chorus
death is so unfasionable
flesh that falls of bones
the end comes creepin round the bend
death is so unfasionable
makes your colors gray
what makes me say such things
it makes you hate me
so this whore will be the mother of a million things
that longer down the line will complete a ring
when her bodyfat is turned into a stinking pond
its forgotten that she died with her makeup on
and the hamridge that she has upon her naked skull
was once a place for wirship for the white and dull
and the dress she wore that day that she was swept away