I see a Mansard Roof through the trees,
I see a salty message written in the eaves,
The ground beneath my feet,
The hot garbage and concrete,
And now the tops of buildings
I can see them too!
The Argentines collapse in defeat,
The admiralty surveys the remnants of the fleet,
The ground beneath their feet
Is a nautically map sheet
as thin as paper
while it slips away from view.