You built me a ship with your own two hands
Which I over analyzed to try and understand
To see things better, I used your magnifying glass
But recklessly, I burned holes in the mast
With nothing left to hold up the sails
I had to find a new way to wander my trails
So I've left the boat, the water, and the cold, rocking sea
To continue on foot, towards a much better me
As it turns out, I wasn't meant for the skies
Nor for the ocean, and all of its tides
Because I was known for getting too high
Or for getting too lost, with no safety in sight
But finally I'm grounded, satisfied at worst
Comfortable in my surroundings, it feels like a first
I'm walking towards something, instead of floating around
I'm carrying tunes instead of just making sound
And though it's no longer here for this part of my trip
I wanted to thank you for building a ship