We've all been there.
It's about leaving the bad stuff behind...sadness...abuse...unhappiness... loneliness...loss...and taking that next big and difficult step towards happiness, and to where you truly belong.
"Home" written by Eric Alexandrakis.
Produced by Eric Alexandrakis and Mark Scandariato.
Mixed by Paul David Hager [Miley Cyrus, Katy Perry, Jonas Brothers, Devo]
Performed by:
Eric Alexandrakis
Ryan Hoyle [Collective Soul, The Pet Shop Boys, Anna Vissi]
Akis Amprazis [Pyx Lax]
Mike Surratt
Mark Scandariato [Maypo Deluxe]
Mastered by Zach Ziskin.
Inspired by Melanie Safka, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Bruce Springsteen, John Taylor, and Noel Gallagher.
Available only on Apple Music.
©℗ 2024 Minoan Music
ERIC ALEXANDRAKIS BIO:
"2 x Grammy® Nominated, discovered by Duran Duran's John Taylor, collabs with Dolores O'Riordan, Ric Ocasek, John Malkovich, David Lynch, Yoko Ono, Sean Lennon…he can't be ignored, and clearly won't be..." - Madame X
"HOME"
I've had enough, of all this stuff,
That brings me down, I'm all but drowned.
I don't need much, for my life's clutch.
I have no crutch as such, no loving touch.
I'll call my bluff, and pretend to be oh so tough.
Pack a bag and take a drag, pacing in a restless zig zag.
Too many sunsets wasted on this scene.
Too many pockets emptied over burning kerosene.
I see the train passing every day from my front porch.
Burn down this house of pain with a blazing torch.
I'm leaving this town. I'm leaving this frown. I'm coming home.
Sleeping with snakes and fakes, the venom, it's all high stakes.
Those razor blades of lies, hidden in freshly baked pies.
Stuck in the mud and always, swallowing blood.
No voice to talk or lamp to rub. No path to walk, or heart to flash flood.
Gotta leave this place fast, I always knew it would never last.
I'm still alive, my time's not at all passed.
My hands are tied and my, love has lied,
To them, to you, and to me myself and I.
I hear the train's whistle calling my name to hike,
Beyond the prickly thistle, just itching to strike.
I'm leaving this town. I'm leaving this frown. I'm coming home.
I've lost and I've found. I won't turn around. I'm coming home.
Life is like the gift that keeps on taking,
Not the gift that keeps on giving, or forgiving.
Life is like the gift that keeps on aching,
And the gift that you keep on making.
I've packed my bags, and left behind my rags.
I've shaved face, and combed my hair, neatly in place.
I took a breath that's deep, behind the door that I used to weep,
Suitcase firmly in hand, flying away to land.
Day after day the door's shadow shapes, a wedge upon the floor,
As I open slowly it gets bigger, from the sunset's roar.
I take my steps a new, into the sunset's orange hue.
Across the field the train, has on their list my last and first name
It's not so easy using decision's sharp knife.
Better to slowly breathe than risk cutting the cord to life.
I hear the train's whistle calling my nerves to strike,
Like a call to action for a suffocating pike.
I'm leaving this town. I'm leaving this frown. I'm coming home.
I've lost and I've found. I won't turn around. I'm coming home.
I'm leaving this town. I'm leaving this frown. I'm coming home.
I've lost and I've found. I won't turn around. I'm coming home.
I'm coming home.