The most beautiful of them all is the unfound island
The one that the King of Spain got from his cousin
the King of Portugal with the royal seal
And the papal edict written in Gothic Latin.
The King of Spain sailed off
In search of the enchanted island
But the island wasn’t there
And nobody ever found it.
It vanshed before the galley’s
bow like an idea
like a wonderful utopia
it’s gone
and will never return.
Old corsars’ charts
bear a mysterious sign
sailors speak about it
with a superstitious fear
Nobody knows it really exists
or it’s a mere thought
sometimes the wind brings its smell
Like smoke you can’t catch it!