|
Island life does have its charms |
|
The constant sun, the steady breeze |
|
Nothing ever happens here |
|
Few are those who do not fall beneath the spell |
|
It's language is an orphan branch |
|
But one that I can understand |
|
Its cadence is familiar |
|
It shares the old declension from the continent |
|
I came here with a package deal |
|
Everything all prearranged |
|
Three nights at the Grand Hotel |
|
Where all the rooms have ocean views |
|
By latitude and longitude |
|
Mariners will not arrive |
|
Its coordinates are plotted |
|
By its relative position to the rising sea |
|
The lucky few who call it home |
|
Are prosperous and confident |
|
And they manifest a certainty |
|
That, come what may, things will not be otherwise |
|
(Chorus) |
|
But time is on the ocean's side |
|
The beaches shift, the cliffs erode |
|
Though the engineers do what they can |
|
Everyday another house just slides away |
|
(Chorus) |