Porto - Brant Bjork

Well I dream that I was Portuguese

Inside my hotel room

The word upon these beautiful streets

Sweet poetry is born, here

Who knew these dreams inside my head

Would reach my seed sown soul

And hear those things that seem so far away

They seem to be so near

Is it wrong to want love

Is it wrong to never hate

These things that make you all so crooked

They seem to make me straight

Hey son do you know where your coming from

Hey jack do you know that you ain’t mine

Hey boy do you know that you ain’t mine

Hey boy do you know where you wanna run

Do you know why you can’t cry

You stupid boy

Your worthless all the same

Got too much high

Got too little brain

Never thought you’d see the day

The day that come a man

Now you know

You know that i am

You know that i am

You know that i am

Ooh doo doo doo…