On the southern coast of Spain
A Union Jack rips on the main
On a rock ruled three hundred years
In a war fought with many tears
This peninsula that juts towards the sea
Where ships once carried African tea

Once part of a proud history
Now a tourist industry
Shops and pubs line Main Street
Where Bobbies walk their beat
The Brits fought Napoleon here
At Spain’s request of yesterday

A refinery now occupies once pristine land
Across the sea from Moroccan sand
Cable cars take one to the top
Of this precipice called the Rock
In the town square one hears many dialects
From shopkeepers wanting to collect

The monkeys from the Barbary Coast
Greet visitors with food the most
Glass blowers perfect their craft
Turning hot liquid into glass
Pubs line the narrow streets
Offering Mediterranean dishes to eat

Stand proud this self proclaimed rock
Whose history began by the dock
Napoleon’s frigates intent to fight
Against a British fortress whose might
Was secured by soldiers long ago
Across the straits from Morocco