Airport on an island,

In the south Aegean Sea,

There is nowhere to charge your phone,

When outlets number three,

And lines are truly out the door,

When men who number two,

Are standing there to give the stamp,

To everyone and you,

There are just one or two cafes,

And when you wait in line,

They say we’re sorry, now we’re closed,

And put up the new sign,

Unless you buy the duty free,

Humungous chocolate bar,

You’re out of luck for eating,

Anything but caviar,

Or maybe you can buy the box,

Of peanuts made for ten,

And throw away nine portions,

Or re-gift it to two men,

And when you need the bathroom,

Throw the paper in the bin,

That’s opened wide for all to see,

What paper was thrown in,

Why do they need a toilet,

With used paper in a can,

Just use the can for everything,

It saves on flushing, man!

Oh airport on an island,

You need managers anew,

Gives meaning to a tourist trap,

With views of oceans blue.