Birthday Girl by Danica Bryant
When I turned eighteen, I felt the world crumbling under my feet. There was such horror in realizing the responsibilities I was about to take on, now that this pointless number legally declared me an adult. Moving out, leaving high school, being allowed to drink... the list went on and on.
Initially, I wrote it as an aching folk song about how painful growing up was. But when I took it to a songwriting workshop led by Bic Runga in July 2019, the musicians I met helped me reshape it into an expression of anger, kicking back against adult rules. It's still very much about the loss of my childhood, but now, it's also a fire-breathing, leather-boot-wearing testament to youth, and what being eighteen has meant to me.
Tracklist
| 1. | Birthday Girl | 3:28 |
Lyrics
Birthday girl, deflated balloon
Melting candles on a cake
Counting on the coloured wax to come seal your fate
The clicking of a lunchbox and the fizz of lemonade
Never again will one of them live to give you a grade
Isn’t life long?
Got to be brave to belong
Woo, let the smoke stain the room
Woo, of your quarter-cut tomb
Woo, what’s eighteen to assume?
Birthday girl, birthday girl, birthday girl
Who are you?
Birthday girl encased in tangerine and mandarin
You’ll be an enigma no matter whose hands you’re in
No more crying over glass now that you’ve spilled the milk
Grow up in this hour, baby, come bathe in your filth
Isn’t life long?
There is no room to be wrong
Woo, let the smoke stain the room
Woo, of your quarter-cut tomb
Woo, what’s eighteen to assume?
Birthday girl, birthday girl, birthday girl
Who are you?
Age is an ever-rolling and spinning wheel
Notice how the lucky ones never tell you how they feel
Tugging on the stage curtains for the big reveal
The gloried revelation that the world has no appeal
But even in the face of God, your audience will kneel
Patiently awaiting some grand truth He has concealed
Only to discover just what makes this all so real
You are looking at the devil and it wasn’t worth the deal
Woo, let the smoke stain the room
Woo, of your quarter-cut tomb
Woo, what’s eighteen to assume?
Birthday girl, birthday girl, birthday girl
Woo, confectionery spite
Woo, revenge on your life
Woo, birthday girl it’s your night
Birthday girl, birthday girl, birthday girl
It’s your life
It’s your life, it’s your life, it’s your life
Credits
Written by Danica Bryant
Vocals and acoustic guitar by Danica Bryant
Drums and electric guitar by Tyler Blythe
Bass and additional percussion by Natalie Bennett
Synth by Toby Lloyd
Produced by Tiny Triumph Recordings
Mastered by Munki Studios
