Northerly - Laura Jean

Darlinghurst.

You found me crying

Under a Moreton Bay fig

We made out under the fruit bats

I smelled the humidity off the concrete

Then it rained hard and mean

Soaking through our jeans

You ran away down Oxford Street

You weren’t ready for a girl like me

There’s a northerly coming through

Straight down the Hume

Into my room

Your grandad was a famous painter

I visited you in his home

But you’d taken too many painkillers

You were dead to the world

There were paintings stacked up under your bed

I touched you through the blanket

Said goodbye to your old man

Never saw you again

There’s a northerly coming through…

I’ve gotta get on with my day

The breeze is turning cool

Did you know I moved down south

To get over you?

The weather down here is wild

You never know what it’s gonna do