Pico evokes a pointy tip. Pico makes a great focal point. Pico, where the little things grow large, Pico has an intensive edge point.
Where the ocean hums,
Under the pier the ocean keeps secrets,
All the maps fold to where we begin with
We carry our coats, we leave our regrets,
There’s a harbor for - every emotional spirit.
Pico, small bright world on the water,
Pico, every end slips into an other startup.
One more night by the lantern glow,
One seasonal bell and we’re ready to go,
But the sunlight keeps us on the shore—
Pico always makes us feel small and big.
Neon at dusk, string lights at the quay,
Pico can be the highest point of -
the mountain tip.
If the wind should change and take us far,
We’ll call it back by the light of the star—
Wherever we roam,
whatever we know,
Pico is the small thing,
that can be a great charm.
Pico evokes a pointy tip.
Pico makes a great focal point.
Pico, where the little things grow large,
Pico has an intensive edge point.
Pico is a compact word,
Balancing smallness and sharpness,
intimacy and summit,
precision and approximation.
Pico is the thing,
make big influence.
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