[Verse 1] (Soft, intimate — single acoustic guitar) On riverbanks where childhood ribbons blow, A red kite tugs the line where the willow bows low. A little wooden pier with its weathered, honest nails, Damp moss and river-glass light, the ferry's distant trails. I hid a tin of small bright things beneath the blackberry vines, Coins of laughter, a folded name — an atlas of our lines. [Chorus A] (Open, gentle lift — add light harmony) Banks, banks, banks — hold my heart so tight, Cradle the maps of midnight and the small things I write. Banks, banks, banks — keep my footsteps on your side, Till I learn to stand when the water pulls and tries to hide. [Verse 2] (Build; second voice enters on last lines) One autumn evening the storm came in like a shouted prayer, A little boat slipped its tether, promises were bare. I left for bright glass cities, for noise that claimed my name, Returned to find an empty pier and a carved-out frame. The kite had gone to someone else; the pier kept only grain; I pressed my palm to weathered wood, feeling both loss and gain. [Chorus B] (Bigger, more urgent — fuller band) Banks, banks, banks — now you know my fight, You kept my small brave secrets through the long, lonesome nights. Banks, banks, banks — you hold the ledger of my tide, Sheltering the things I loved and the things I tried. [Bridge ] (Quiet, introspective — build to release) In the hush between the ripples and the roar I learned to read, That a bank is not a prison but the place a river keeps. It holds the bruises, keeps the letters that the current wrote, But teaches how to lift your hands and let the story float. So when the wind comes asking for the past, I let the line unwind, And find the steady shore has taught a kinder kind of mind. [Chorus C — Transformed] (Full, open-voiced; three-part harmony on final lines) Banks, banks, banks — hold me and then let me go, Teach me how to carry, when to keep, when to let things flow. Banks, banks, banks — etched in river and in bone, My story runs and changes course, and I am finally home. [Outro ] (Soft, fading — single voice with distant harmonies) On riverbanks where childhood ribbons still sway in light, The pier remembers laughter and the quiet of the night. Oh my story, banked and bright — a current, slow and wide, Banks keep my heart, they hold my things, then open with the tide. (Performance notes: verses intimate and conversational; choruses open and anthemic; bridge quiet and revealing; final chorus with stacked harmonies for emotional lift.)