I tend to think highly of
Unconventional ways to leave

I put the stones in my pockets
And rocked myself to sleep
I kept the stones in my pockets
And waltzed on out to sea

But the stones made holes
And brusied my feet
Before I could wander
Out too deep
I'm in over this ocean in my head
But I've had holes in my pockets
Since I stole my first breath

So I stitched them up, I'm sinking now
But I mended them
Upside down
And I'm not strong enough
To not swim back to shore

But I've lived long enough
To think highly of
Unconventional ways to go
So I'm skipping all these stones

And going home