In a Gust off the Port Blossom Sea

+ Show full styles

(Verse 2)
But the wind, it had a different plan, a mean and playful streak
It wasn't just a whisper now, it was a thing that speaks
In violent, grabbing pulses, a bully at my hem
My palm grew damp and panicked, my neat world started to stem
Into this single, desperate point: the clutch of my cold hand
On fabric fighting to be free, to misunderstand
My whole life was in that grip, my social standing, everything
A flashback to the playground and the snap of a bra strap sting
Don't look up, don't make a sound, just be a statue, be a stone
If no one sees you flinch, then you're alone, you're still alone.

(Chorus)
And then the world went still and sharp, a photograph of shame
The pleats flew up like wings to frame the unforgiving name
Of who I am beneath the wool, the silk beige and the blue
The childish, tiny ducklings printed there for the whole world to view
A frozen second, stretched for years, the gasp I couldn't make
The cold air painting circles on the dumb mistake
I didn't choose, a birthday gift, a relic from a simpler year
Now a flag of my humiliation for everyone to leer
Oh, the ducklings marched right off the cliff and took my dignity
In a gust off the Port Blossom sea.

(Verse 3)
A final, violent tug-of-war, a sound like laughter, sharp and high
The skirt took flight, a navy kite against a endless sky
It danced a jig on the salt breeze, a cruel and merry sight
And left me standing there, exposed in the forgiving light
Doc Martens planted, knees gone weak, a monument to blush
A hot wash from my ankles to my scalp, a sudden, silent hush
Inside my head, a screamed command that just came out a squeak
As I watched my social life play hide-and-seek
Halfway down the pier, snagged on a splintered post
The thing I needed most, became the thing I wanted most to lose.

(Bridge)
And then a voice, "Hey, you okay?" from a boy I knew from Bio
The kindness in his question just served to amplify the low
And desperate shame that glued me there, my arms crossed on my chest
Trying to be smaller than the horror I’d expressed
I had to ask. The words like stones. "My skirt... it..."
He just nodded, jogged and got it, didn't make a scene
And handed it back, averted eyes, a merciful, quiet routine
And I muttered thanks to the concrete, wrapped the polyester tight
Around my hips, a makeshift shield, to get me through the light
Of walking back to campus, through the whispers and the bricks.

(Verse 4)
And I still wear the uniform, I still wear the pleated blue
I even still wear the ducklings, what else is a girl to do?
The wind still talks to my skirt, on the pier most every day
But I just close my eyes and let it have its little say
I feel it rush around my knees, a familiar, chilling friend
And wait to see if it will hurt me, all over again.
And sometimes, when it grabs me, I just let my hands fall slack
And remember what it took from me, and what it gave me back.
Just a girl, and too much wind, and a secret she can't keep
Printed on her underwear, and buried in the deep.

4770/7500

(Verse 1) The chipped concrete of the pier felt cold beneath my Docs October in Port Blossom, the wind does what it wants Tastes of salt and regret, and my stupid pleated skirt A shield of navy polyester, a socially acceptable hurt I was sketching gull bones, trying to be invisible and deep When the first cold gust came whispering up from the sleep Of the gray-green water below, a shiver up my thigh A practiced, casual hand-drop, a quick and fleeting sigh Just the usual negotiation, the price you pay for air For wearing the uniform, for pretending not to care. (Verse 2) But the wind, it had a different plan, a mean and playful streak It wasn't just a whisper now, it was a thing that speaks In violent, grabbing pulses, a bully at my hem My palm grew damp and panicked, my neat world started to stem Into this single, desperate point: the clutch of my cold hand On fabric fighting to be free, to misunderstand My whole life was in that grip, my social standing, everything A flashback to the playground and the snap of a bra strap sting Don't look up, don't make a sound, just be a statue, be a stone If no one sees you flinch, then you're alone, you're still alone. (Chorus) And then the world went still and sharp, a photograph of shame The pleats flew up like wings to frame the unforgiving name Of who I am beneath the wool, the silk beige and the blue The childish, tiny ducklings printed there for the whole world to view A frozen second, stretched for years, the gasp I couldn't make The cold air painting circles on the dumb mistake I didn't choose, a birthday gift, a relic from a simpler year Now a flag of my humiliation for everyone to leer Oh, the ducklings marched right off the cliff and took my dignity In a gust off the Port Blossom sea. (Verse 3) A final, violent tug-of-war, a sound like laughter, sharp and high The skirt took flight, a navy kite against a endless sky It danced a jig on the salt breeze, a cruel and merry sight And left me standing there, exposed in the forgiving light Doc Martens planted, knees gone weak, a monument to blush A hot wash from my ankles to my scalp, a sudden, silent hush Inside my head, a screamed command that just came out a squeak As I watched my social life play hide-and-seek Halfway down the pier, snagged on a splintered post The thing I needed most, became the thing I wanted most to lose. (Chorus) And then the world went still and sharp, a photograph of shame The pleats flew up like wings to frame the unforgiving name Of who I am beneath the wool, the silk beige and the blue The childish, tiny ducklings printed there for the whole world to view A frozen second, stretched for years, the gasp I couldn't make The cold air painting circles on the dumb mistake I didn't choose, a birthday gift, a relic from a simpler year Now a flag of my humiliation for everyone to leer Oh, the ducklings marched right off the cliff and took my dignity In a gust off the Port Blossom sea. (Bridge) And then a voice, "Hey, you okay?" from a boy I knew from Bio The kindness in his question just served to amplify the low And desperate shame that glued me there, my arms crossed on my chest Trying to be smaller than the horror I’d expressed I had to ask. The words like stones. "My skirt... it..." He just nodded, jogged and got it, didn't make a scene And handed it back, averted eyes, a merciful, quiet routine And I muttered thanks to the concrete, wrapped the polyester tight Around my hips, a makeshift shield, to get me through the light Of walking back to campus, through the whispers and the bricks. (Verse 4) And I still wear the uniform, I still wear the pleated blue I even still wear the ducklings, what else is a girl to do? The wind still talks to my skirt, on the pier most every day But I just close my eyes and let it have its little say I feel it rush around my knees, a familiar, chilling friend And wait to see if it will hurt me, all over again. And sometimes, when it grabs me, I just let my hands fall slack And remember what it took from me, and what it gave me back. Just a girl, and too much wind, and a secret she can't keep Printed on her underwear, and buried in the deep. (Chorus) And then the world went still and sharp, a photograph of shame The pleats flew up like wings to frame the unforgiving name Of who I am beneath the wool, the silk beige and the blue The childish, tiny ducklings printed there for the whole world to view A frozen second, stretched for years, the gasp I couldn't make The cold air painting circles on the dumb mistake I didn't choose, a birthday gift, a relic from a simpler year Now a flag of my humiliation for everyone to leer Oh, the ducklings marched right off the cliff and took my dignity In a gust off the Port Blossom sea.

0/500