Kingfishr – 21. Lyrics Meaning: The Unspoken Grief of Growing Up
Ever find yourself scrolling way, way back in your camera roll and landing on a picture of yourself from years ago? Maybe you’re 21, surrounded by friends, with a kind of unfiltered, electric grin on your face. You look at that person—the light in their eyes, the easy confidence—and a strange question pops into your head: where did they go?
It’s not that your life is bad now, not at all. It’s just… different. That raw, untamed spark feels a little dimmer. That feeling, that quiet, nagging ache of a past self you can’t quite get back to, is the exact emotion that the Irish folk band Kingfishr has masterfully bottled in their hauntingly beautiful song, “21”. This track is more than just a nostalgic trip; it’s a profound look into the subtle tragedies we witness as we get older, the ones no one ever really talks about.
Cracking Open the Heartache in Kingfishr’s “21”
- Kingfishr – Man On The Moon : A Haunting Tale of Selling Your Soul and Finding It Again
- Kingfishr – Gloria : Finding Beauty in the Brutal Journey
- Kingfishr – Heart In The Water : A Haunting Ballad of Unspoken Love and Regret
- Kingfishr – Diamonds & Roses : Finding What’s Real in a World of Fakes
- Kingfishr – flowers-fire [ft. Jamie Duffy] : A Beautiful Mess of Regret and Redemption
- Kingfishr – 21 : The Unspoken Grief of Growing Up
- Kingfishr – eyes don’t lie : An Unspoken Truth in a Painful Goodbye
Right from the get-go, “21” sets a somber, reflective tone. It’s not about a dramatic, movie-like tragedy. Instead, it’s about the slow, silent fade of potential, of dreams, and sometimes, of people themselves. It’s about watching someone you knew, or even a version of yourself, lose their way without any big announcement or fanfare.
The Dreams Left “Upon the Tracks”
The song opens with an image that’s both vague and painfully specific. It’s about the ones who just disappear from your life, or from their own life’s path, in a way.
Sometimes they never come back
Leaving all of your dreams upon the tracks
In a flash they’re all gone
And the curtains all are drawn
Picture it: the “tracks” are like a railroad, symbolizing a journey forward. But their dreams? They’re left behind, abandoned. The phrase “in a flash” suggests how quickly life can change, while “the curtains all are drawn” feels so final, like the end of a play. The show is over for that chapter, or for that person’s ambition. And the most heartbreaking part? The song points out this chilling reality:
And the funny thing is no one stops to ask
That line is a gut punch. It’s the core of the song’s tragedy. Life is so busy, so relentlessly forward-moving, that we often fail to notice when someone’s light starts to go out. We just keep going.
The Million-Dollar Question: What Happened to the Light?
The chorus is where the song truly pours its heart out. It’s a series of questions thrown into the void, questions many of us have probably thought but never said aloud. It’s a beautiful and devastating comparison between the predictable, constant universe and the fragile, unpredictable inner world of a person.
How come the stars rise
But the lights don’t shine behind those eyes
Like they did, when we were young
At the age of 21?
Wow. It’s just so perfectly put. The stars will always rise; it’s a law of nature. But the “light behind those eyes”—that fire of passion, hope, and youthful naivety—isn’t guaranteed. Why 21? Because it’s such a symbolic age. You’re on the threshold of everything, feeling invincible, with a future that feels like an open road. The song mourns the loss of that specific, brilliant light.
When Memories are All You Have Left
The chorus continues, digging even deeper into this sense of loss in our hyper-modern world. It challenges the idea that you can’t truly “lose” if you’re still here, still breathing.
And who says you can’t lose
When the flames burn down the morning news
And the best you’ll ever know
Is a memory on your phone?
The line “when the flames burn down the morning news” is pure poetry. It could mean the world’s tragedies feel so overwhelming that they extinguish any personal hope for the day. Or maybe it’s about a piece of personal bad news that overshadows everything else. Then comes the final, crushing blow: the realization that your best days, your happiest moments, your peak self, now only exist as a digital ghost in your camera roll. That’s a uniquely 21st-century kind of heartbreak, and it is devastatingly relatable.
A Universal Grief We Don’t Talk About
As you listen, you realize Kingfishr isn’t just singing about one person. They’re singing about a universal experience. It’s for the friend from college who used to be the life of the party and now seems quiet and distant. It’s for the creative soul who gave up their passion for a “sensible” job. And sometimes, if we’re being really honest, it’s for a part of ourselves that we’ve lost along the way. The song gives a voice to that quiet grief, validating the feeling that something precious has been lost, even if there’s no clear reason why.
But here’s the beautiful thing about a song like this. While it’s deeply melancholic, it’s also a powerful reminder. It’s a call to action in its own quiet way. It urges us to be the person who does stop to ask. To check in on our friends, to truly look at them and see if the light is still shining in their eyes. It’s a prompt to fight for our own spark, to create new memories that are more than just future ghosts on our phones, and to cherish the present moment with everything we’ve got.
Ultimately, “21” is a masterpiece of storytelling. It captures the bittersweet ache of time passing and the silent sorrows of growing up. It’s a song that will stay with you long after the final note fades, making you want to call an old friend or maybe, just maybe, go find that 21-year-old version of yourself and promise them you won’t let their light go out. What does this song make you feel? I’m curious to know if it brings a different meaning or memory to your mind. Let’s talk about it.
