I see a mansard roof through the trees
The ground beneath my feet, the hot garbage and concrete
The admiralty surveys, the remnants of the fleet
The ground beneath my feet, the hot garbage and concrete
The ground beneath their feet is a nautically mapped sheet
And now the tops of buildings, I can see them, too
It's thin as paper while it slips away from view
And now the tops of buildings, I can see them, too

I see a salty message written in the eaves

The Argentines collapse in defeat