To Move the Air With Force (Blow)

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
The schoolroom window hums a low note.
My anemometer spins on its string.
Tin cans catching the force of it.
It is 4:30 in the afternoon.
The air smells of salt and wet stone.
A twelve-degree Celsius kind of day.
The wind presses against the door, asking to come in.

[Chorus]
To move the air with force.
A gale across the water, it blows.
A small breath on a candle, it blows.
A sound from the trumpet's cold bell, it blows.
I draw the shape of the moving air.

[Verse 2]
The beeswax candle flickers on the desk.
A small, warm flag in the growing dark.
I lean in close, feel its heat on my chin.
My lungs fill.
One soft puff.
The light is gone, and a silver thread of smoke
Draws a question mark in the air.
I sketch it before it disappears.

[Chorus]
To move the air with force.
A gale across the water, it blows.
A small breath on a candle, it blows.
A sound from the trumpet's cold bell, it blows.
I draw the shape of the moving air.

[Bridge]
The dented trumpet is heavy in my lap.
They said you could blow a storm away with one.
But John Smeaton, in 1760, he measured the wind.
He knew its power was a number.
I press the mouthpiece to my lips. It’s cold.
I blow a note. It is not beautiful.
But it is loud.

[Outro]
Three drawings in my book.
Page one: the wind around the schoolhouse.
Page two: the smoke from the wick.
Page three: the sound leaving the horn.
It all just blows.