Portugal - Christian Kjellvander

Hollowed and holy

Borrowed and brand

The map’s not the mountain

The lay is not the land

The waters of portugal

Beloved new

The waters of anywhere

As a city blooms

All that I love will disappear

Even if I stay

So I myself am going where

My nervous blood will sway

Lost and leaving my fate

And on the twelth day

I’ll take a stand

One ghost of many

I’ll raise my hand

All that I love will disappear

Even if I stay

So I myself am going where

My nervous blood will sway

Lost and leaving my fate