Porto

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 cant 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...