Sandžak (Bosnian language: Sandžak pronounced [sǎndʒak], Serbian, Montenegrin Cyrillic: Санџак pronounced [sǎndʒak], Turkish: Sancak)), , is a region lying along the border between Serbia and Montenegro. Тhe name Sandžak derives from the Sanjak of Novi Pazar, a former Ottoman administrative district that existed until the Balkan Wars of 1912.
The region is referred to as either Novopazarski Sandžak (Sandžak of Novi Pazar), or simply Sandžak by local ethnic Bosniaks. Official administrative name of the region, however, is Raška District Raška Oblast (Рашка Област). Internationally, during the Ottoman and Habsburg rule, the area was formerly known as the Sanjak of Novi Pazar meaning the Sanjak (district) of Novi Pazar. In medieval Serbia and the latter independent nation-state the region became increasingly referred to by its pre- Ottoman name (Raška).
Sandžak is the local Bosnian transcription of the Turkish word sancak, which means "flag" or "national ensign" which was used as a term representing the "province" or district". Sanjaks originally were the first level subdivisions of the Ottoman Empire. They arose in the mid-14th century as military districts that were part of a military-feudal system. In addition to the paid professional army, the Ottoman army had corps of cavalry soldiers (called spahis or sipahi) who performed military service in return for estates granted by the Sultan (larger estates were called zaim or zeamet, smaller ones timar). Spahis gathered for war according to the Sanjak in which they lived, and were led by an official called a Sanjak-beg or Sanjakbey (roughly equivalent to "district governor").
Born of the river,
Born of its never-changing, never-changing murky water
Huck standing like a Saint, upon its deck
If ya wanna catch a Saint,
then bait ja hook, let's take a walk...
'O come to me!, O come to me!' is what the dirt-irty
say to Huck... HUCK
woah-woah, woah woah!
Saint Huck! Huck!
Straight in the arms of the city goes Huck,
down the heckoning streets of op-po-tunity
whistling his favorite river-song...
And a bad-bline-nigger at the piano
Buts a sinister-bloo-lilt to that sing-a-long
Huck senses somthing's wrong!
Sirens wail in the city,
and lil-Ulysses turn to putty
Ol man River's got a bone to pick!
Our boys hardly got a bone to suck!
He go, woah-woah, woah woah!
Saint Huck! Huck!
The mo-o-o-on, its huge cycloptic eye
watches the city streets contract
twist and cripple and crack.
Saint Huck goes on a dog's-leg now
Saint Huck goes on a dog's-leg now
Why, you know the story!
Ya wake up one morning and ya find your a thug
blowing smoke fings in some dive
Ya fingers hot and itchin, cracking ya knuckles
Ya bull neck briseting...
Still Huck he ventures on whistling,
and Death reckons Huckleberry's time is up,
O woah woah woah!
Saint Huck! Huck!
Yonder go Huck, minus pocket-watch an' wallet gone
Skin shrinks wraps his skeleton
No wonder he got thinner, not, with his cold'n'skinny dinners!
Saint Huck-a-Saint Elvis, Saint Huck-a-Saint Elvis
O you recall the song ya used to sing-a-long
Shifting the river-trade on that ol' steamer
Life is only a dream!
But ya trade in the Mighty ol' man River
for the Dirty ol' Man Latrine!
The brothel shift
The hustle'n'the bustle and the green-backs rustle
And all the sexy-cash
And the randy-cars
And the two dollar fucks
O o o ya onto luck, onto luck
Woah-woah-woah-woah