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Port Number Twenty-Five
November's nearly gone, the playoffs and finals came and went
I picked my side, wore the colours and raised hell for every one
Saw the pit stops, the wrecks and the chequered flag come down
Went hard and fast, drank enough for a hundred men and got real loud
The missus left in June, good riddance, I said
The boys chimed in, reckon I'm better off instead
The Christmas party's comin' up, two buses, wine and craft beer
From where I'm standing, life looks grand and good from here
Port Number Twenty-Five is closin' in fast
Do this, do that, like the world ends on that day
Like crazed bees in a bottle all tryin' to force their way
When the load starts shifting
And the harbour lights grow dim
I need a diesel-fired tugboat by my side
Before the lean gets bad and I end up in the drink
I need family, friends, AA, or whatever works
They're the things that pull me through
Need some tugs on my port and starboard sides
Before the sea gets hold of me
The lawyer's letter turned up, sat there by the sink
Unopened for three whole days, too bloody scared to think
Suzie failed all her finals, up in her room doom scrolling all day
Blames me for her mum leavin', the fights and the strife
And it hurts real bad when she says I ruined her life
Port Number Twenty-Five is closin' in fast
Do this, do that, like the world ends on that day
Like crazed bees in a bottle all tryin' to force their way
When the load starts shifting
And the harbour lights grow dim
I need a diesel-fired tugboat by my side
Before the lean gets bad and I end up in the drink
I need family, friends, AA, or whatever works
They're the things that pull me through
Need some tugs on my port and starboard sides
Before the sea gets hold of me
Woke up on the couch again with the TV glowing blue
No idea why I'd texted Jen from work at half-past two
Andy tried to call me twice, I told him where to go
Funny how the people trying to help are first ones you let go
Suzie stayed at Aaron's place, said she needed space from me
That's when my wake got too rough to miss
Mum's knee finally packed it in, she's in a chair for good
The doc is talking operations, says she's done all that she could
Port Number Twenty-Five is closin' in fast
Do this, do that, like the world ends on that day
Like crazed bees in a bottle all tryin' to force their way
When the load starts shifting
And the harbour lights grow dim
I need a diesel-fired tugboat by my side
Before the lean gets bad and I end up in the drink
I need family, friends, AA, or whatever works
They're the things that pull me through
Need some tugs on my port and starboard sides
Before the sea gets hold of me
I finally took a hard look at myself and all the roads I'd chose
The bridges I'd burnt and the price that I still owed
So I drove up north and saw my ex, we sat and had a civil feed
Didn't fix much, but it was what we both did need
I'm not missing the bourbon as much as I thought I would
And for the first time in a while the future looks half good
I went to the boss for three days off, Mum needs me Christmas week
He signed the form and looked me hard in the eye
We didn't need no ff fancy speak
Never cooked a turkey in my whole life but I told Mum I'd give it a crack
Mum reckons she'll supervise me close and keep me on the track
Maybe it's not that important to arrive at port in a blaze of glory
I'm thinking livin' well today is a big part of the story
Maybe smart captains ask for help when things start going wrong
Maybe a couple of good tugboats help keep a ship headstrong
Port Number Twenty-Five is closin' in fast
Do this, do that, like the world ends on that day
Like crazed bees in a bottle all tryin' to force their way
When the load starts shifting
And the harbour lights grow dim
I need a diesel-fired tugboat by my side
Before the lean gets bad and I end up in the drink
I need family, friends, AA, or whatever works
They're the things that pull me through
Need some tugs on my port and starboard sides
Before the sea gets hold of me
November's nearly gone, the playoffs and finals came and went
I picked my side, wore the colours and raised hell for every one
STORY BOARD
SONG OVERVIEW
Written and produced by Tasmanian Songwriter Jason Bresnehan, Port Number Twenty-Five is a piano-driven Australian pub rock song about the pressures that often build in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
The song follows a narrator whose life gradually begins to drift off course as family problems, relationship breakdown, alcohol, financial pressure and personal responsibility converge at the same time. What begins as confidence and avoidance slowly gives way to self-awareness and a recognition that help is needed before things deteriorate further.
The title transforms Christmas Day into a fictional harbour called Port Number Twenty-Five. Everyone is trying to arrive at the same destination, carrying more pressure than they should. The song asks a simple question: is arriving safely more important than arriving perfectly?
MUSICAL DIRECTION
Port Number Twenty-Five is built around piano-driven Australian pub rock, combining storytelling, driving rhythm and a strong sing-along chorus.
The arrangement draws upon the tradition of working-class Australian rock songs where everyday life, personal struggles and redemption sit alongside powerful live-band energy. The piano remains central throughout, supported by guitars, drums and Hammond organ.
The result is a song designed to sound equally at home on a pub stage or through a car stereo during a long drive.
THE ARTWORK
The artwork presents a live band performing in a small venue, capturing the energy and atmosphere of Australian pub rock.
The vocalist dominates the foreground while the supporting musicians reinforce the feeling of a working band telling a working person's story. The image reflects the song's directness, authenticity and connection to everyday life.
PERSONAL CONNECTION TO JASON BRESNEHAN SONGWRITER AND PRODUCER
Port Number Twenty-Five grew from an observation about what often happens between late November and Christmas.
For many people, Christmas is a joyful period. For others, it can become a pressure cooker. Relationship breakdowns, loneliness, addiction, financial stress, family conflict and unrealistic expectations all seem to intensify as Christmas Day approaches.
The harbour metaphor emerged from that observation. Ships approaching a difficult port often require tugboats to help them arrive safely. The song uses those tugboats as a metaphor for family, friends, Alcoholics Anonymous, faith communities, professional services or whatever support network helps people stay afloat when life becomes difficult.
The song is not really about Christmas. It is about recognising when the load is shifting, asking for help and understanding that arriving safely matters more than proving a point.