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I'm Coming Home

“It is more emotional based than an actual story. I have always been interested in that type of writing. You don’t really know what is going on. There is no specific course. It is all up for interpretation. “ – Jeff Church

This is how Jeff answered me when I asked him what inspired him to write “I’m Coming Home”. I have decided, mostly because I am literal and visual, that Jeff grabs frequencies in his song writing from universal airwaves he catches. He feels the energy of the emotion then he translates the emotion into music and lyrics.

Some of his songs can transport you to a place you have been, and more amazing still, the song might encourage a transformation in you.

I realized after I asked the question, I didn’t need to ask what the song was about. I had my own interpretation for the feelings the song brought out of me. For me “I’m Coming Home” is about weathering the brutal storm of grief.

Down about a quart of blood - Realizing what it took from you.

I took my seat on the aisle - Accepting it.

My hands rests easy on the gun - Being afraid of it.

The miles pass on by me - When will this end? It took my so much time from me.

Digs deep in my scars - It still hurts.

This song is for all those people who experienced this dark place. From this place emerges love again. I promise. If you aren’t there yet, keep moving. Soon you will be Home - back to you.

I'm Coming Home

Sittin’ at this train station

Down about a quart of blood

My dreams turned into visions

And the chilled memories flood

At the right side is my suitcase

At the left side is my soul

The intercom voice is my guidance

The lonely whistle pays the toll

All these faces pass me

I don’t know who they are

The sun shines above me

It burns out all the stars

The ground rumbles below me

Dig deep into my scars

I’m coming home

I took my seat on the aisle

My hand rests easy on the gun

The miles pass on by me

I’m at the end of my run

I could use a drink now

But whiskey can’t touch the pain

It might just steady my conscience

Point a finger at the blame

These towns pass by me

I don’t know where I am

On this trail to perdition

I sure could use a friend

But the darkness owns me

As I come around the bend

I’m coming home

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