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Christian Kjellvander
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Portugal
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
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and on the twelth day
I'll take a stand
one ghost of many
I'll raise my hand
(x2)
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
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