In a lonely little restaruant close to the beach of Porto
A Sardine proudly hangs in the blue sky
And its hard-earned crown floats gracefully above
And so too the wood, burning in the air.
The boats gently bob in the afternoon breeze.
the two-dimensional fisherman calmly mends his net
Oblivious to the gaze of the Kiwi
Bright lights and the scent of Sardines
Mark the spot where Europe finally fades into the sea.
