Stones It's a stone, I say. But look at the colour, It's shape How smooth And the scent of salt. But it's a stone I say. Yes, but what does it say? It has a history - But it's a fucking stone. I find I'm repeating myself. You're missing the point. Hundreds, if not thousands Of years have shaped this rock. It has history. It says so much It says nothing. It looks like All the other 'king stones That lie strewn across the beach. Why must you think it says anything? Why can't it just lie there minding It's own fucking business simply being - being a stone. Ha..... Why are we together?