Whistle

Lyrics

It was the summer of 1948.
Grandpa Silas showed me how.
He said, "It just takes patience, son."

On that faded green porch swing,
Legs too short to touch the ground.
He said, "Curl your tongue back just so...
Keep it wet, don't let it dry."
I tried all afternoon,
Just a dry hiss, a frustrated sigh.
The cicadas droned on, didn't care at all.

He said, "Can you whistle, honey?
Just put your two fingers in.
Yeah, you know how to whistle, don't you?
You just pucker up and blow.
A little bit of pressure, now.
That's the only way to know.
Come on, just whistle for me now."

My lips were getting chapped and sore.
Fingers tasted of lemonade and dust.
I tucked my index and my middle in,
Pressed them firm against my tongue.
Heard nothing but the sound of trying,
The promise of a song unsung.
Felt so close but still so far away.

He said, "Can you whistle, honey?
Just put your two fingers in.
Yeah, you know how to whistle, don't you?
You just pucker up and blow.
A little bit of pressure, now.
That's the only way to know.
Come on, just whistle for me now."

And then it happened, all at once.
Not from trying harder, but just from ease.
A sudden, piercing, perfect note
Shot right out across the breeze.
Startled a robin from the clothesline post.
A grin broke out on my face, I felt like a king.

And now I can whistle, honey.
I just put my two fingers in.
Yeah, I know how to whistle now.
I just pucker up and blow.
The perfect amount of pressure, now.
It's the only way to go.
Come on, I'll whistle for you now.

Yeah, I'll whistle for you now.