Plougastel
Shyle Zalewski
Drinking the best cider of the coast
Eating crêpes, and reading Faust
Blonde sand into the brownie hair
But with nobody to share
Early morning, empty beach
Sand on the toes, it starts to itch
To fill lungs with the purest air
But with nobody to share
They told me heaven's in Plougastel
But if you're lonely it looks more like
...the Hell