It is more of a gaze down the beach towards Macs than a look
Blue green water small waves and the bluff reaching like a fist
Waiting for stormy surf to smash upon ancient gnarled knuckles
The Copa bar is open and the boys old and new scull longnecks
Leaning on pines posts by the side of the road in the afterwork sun
Telling tales into Coopers that you should’ave been here yesterday
The gaze down the beach lengthens with the rays of the sun
Whilst Copacabana nestles quietly into a comfortable space happily lagging
Behind the big city stresses and the worries of the world beyond