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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
ABOUT THIS SONG
Written and produced by Tasmanian Songwriter Jason Bresnehan, Port Number Twenty-Five is an Australian pub rock song with a male vocal. The song follows an Australian bloke whose life begins to list as Christmas approaches, with relationship breakdown, family pressure, alcohol, work and personal responsibility gradually converging. Christmas Day becomes the fictional harbour of Port Number Twenty-Five, and the question is no longer whether the narrator can arrive perfectly, but whether the narrator can arrive safely.
The lyrics use a struggling ship as a metaphor for a human life under increasing pressure. The narrator initially believes life is travelling reasonably well, even as the load begins to shift around him. As the problems accumulate, tugboats become the symbol for family, friends, Alcoholics Anonymous or whatever support is capable of helping when somebody can no longer safely navigate alone. The song gradually moves from avoidance towards self-awareness, reconnection and a different understanding of strength: smart captains accept help when the ship begins to lean.
The artwork places the song firmly in the world of Australian pub rock, with a black-and-white live performance featuring a vocalist at the microphone, supported by keyboard and guitar players under strong stage lighting. The raw small-venue setting reflects the narrator imagined for the song: an ordinary Australian bloke telling a difficult personal story through the direct, unpolished energy of a working pub band.
This song forms part of the Merry Christmas Collection by Seventh Ribbon Music.
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Jason Bresnehan is a Songwriter, Author and Consultant: Business & Recovery