here's an isle in the Atlantic
In a place called Terciera,
Where the forest oozes green
Through the early morning mist
Where the trees are playful giants
Running to the frozen breakers
And the sunset is forever
On the ever frozen sea
In this photographic instant
Stands a woman tall and slender
Leaning on a wooden railing
Leaning graceful as the sun
In her faded yellow T-shirt
and her cutoff denim shorts
She holds a her winking camera
Taking pictures of the land
She is going to take a picture.
And she will always stand there
In the mist of that one morning
Till the end of time itself
In the kingdom of he camera
Nothing ever disappears
Nothing is so very distant
And the lens remembers all.
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