Every rock’s a throne on
The Tyrrhenian Sea
Where the blue court waits
Indiscriminately
On every man, a king,
Rich as any could be
Honoured and guarded by
The sentry of Capri.

Every rock’s a throne on
The Tyrrhenian Sea
But should the azure
Beckon such kings to free
Their seats, and swim beyond,
Mere men once more they’ll be
Churned up and dashed ashore
Soaked in mortality.