I Travel Home
๐ต 2575 characters
โฑ๏ธ 3:37 duration
๐ ID: 11147763
๐ Lyrics
I travel home to remember the sound of morning
I choose the evening to pray, I remember this as it is
For when the city returns
When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers
Surround my senses, diminishing this version of my imagination
I will remember this
The silence and the nighttime
I will remember red sand on bare feet
My skin sticky glistening in the sun
My hair like untamed wool
I will remember the air thick of Africa
I will remember my mother in the night
And the children she cares for
I will see them once more as they play
Peeking at me from the crack in the doorway
I will remember my aunty, and her famous jellof rice
Asking me in flawless Esan native tongue
"Ehen, Iyeoka ofure, onegbe?"
That means, "Iyeoka how is everything you're too skinny"
And I, struggling to keep up, clumsily responding
"Butayay aunti?" that means, I don't know what you just said
I will remember the marketplace
And the women selling smoked corn and plantain
I will remember the taste of moi-moi and egusi soup, ogbono soup, pepper soup, dodo
The sound of Doris pounding yam
Fresh oranges from the Arimogija farm
When Boston city lights mask the majesty of my favorite constellations
I will remember the moon
Pregnant and smiling at me because I am a poet
As if she knows that I am invested enough to write about it
And because I am a poet
I will remember the unseen
The homeless, and the beggars, the roadside wanderers
The people just trying to survive
I remember the children roadside selling cell phones and unwanted trinkets
I will remember the local roads beaten and eroded by rain and time
Huts built beside a 15-story hotel sky rise
So many having so much
Neighbours with others living with nothing but the hand-me-downs on their backs
And the realities of poverty crushing their promises of tomorrow
I choose to leave behind my rose colored glasses in my grandfather's village
Because when my plane finally lands back in Boston
I need to believe that Nigeria changes me every single time
Call it a small doze of third world reality, what ever you call it
These are the moments that teach us how to recognize what we take for granted
Constant electricity and clean water
Hospitals on every corner
The opportunity for us to rise beyond our native borders
These are the details that risk a fate of becoming lost or forgotten
Like sounds of the morning
Because when the city returns
When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers surrounds my senses
Diminishing this version of my imagination
I will remember this
I need to remember this
I choose the evening to pray, I remember this as it is
For when the city returns
When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers
Surround my senses, diminishing this version of my imagination
I will remember this
The silence and the nighttime
I will remember red sand on bare feet
My skin sticky glistening in the sun
My hair like untamed wool
I will remember the air thick of Africa
I will remember my mother in the night
And the children she cares for
I will see them once more as they play
Peeking at me from the crack in the doorway
I will remember my aunty, and her famous jellof rice
Asking me in flawless Esan native tongue
"Ehen, Iyeoka ofure, onegbe?"
That means, "Iyeoka how is everything you're too skinny"
And I, struggling to keep up, clumsily responding
"Butayay aunti?" that means, I don't know what you just said
I will remember the marketplace
And the women selling smoked corn and plantain
I will remember the taste of moi-moi and egusi soup, ogbono soup, pepper soup, dodo
The sound of Doris pounding yam
Fresh oranges from the Arimogija farm
When Boston city lights mask the majesty of my favorite constellations
I will remember the moon
Pregnant and smiling at me because I am a poet
As if she knows that I am invested enough to write about it
And because I am a poet
I will remember the unseen
The homeless, and the beggars, the roadside wanderers
The people just trying to survive
I remember the children roadside selling cell phones and unwanted trinkets
I will remember the local roads beaten and eroded by rain and time
Huts built beside a 15-story hotel sky rise
So many having so much
Neighbours with others living with nothing but the hand-me-downs on their backs
And the realities of poverty crushing their promises of tomorrow
I choose to leave behind my rose colored glasses in my grandfather's village
Because when my plane finally lands back in Boston
I need to believe that Nigeria changes me every single time
Call it a small doze of third world reality, what ever you call it
These are the moments that teach us how to recognize what we take for granted
Constant electricity and clean water
Hospitals on every corner
The opportunity for us to rise beyond our native borders
These are the details that risk a fate of becoming lost or forgotten
Like sounds of the morning
Because when the city returns
When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers surrounds my senses
Diminishing this version of my imagination
I will remember this
I need to remember this
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:00.66] I travel home to remember the sound of morning
[00:04.11] I choose the evening to pray, I remember this as it is
[00:08.38] For when the city returns
[00:10.78] When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers
[00:14.90] Surround my senses, diminishing this version of my imagination
[00:21.21] I will remember this
[00:23.30] The silence and the nighttime
[00:25.72] I will remember red sand on bare feet
[00:28.39] My skin sticky glistening in the sun
[00:31.47] My hair like untamed wool
[00:33.82] I will remember the air thick of Africa
[00:39.33] I will remember my mother in the night
[00:41.75] And the children she cares for
[00:43.80] I will see them once more as they play
[00:45.71] Peeking at me from the crack in the doorway
[00:48.65] I will remember my aunty, and her famous jellof rice
[00:52.00] Asking me in flawless Esan native tongue
[00:54.95] "Ehen, Iyeoka ofure, onegbe?"
[00:57.52] That means, "Iyeoka how is everything you're too skinny"
[01:00.78] And I, struggling to keep up, clumsily responding
[01:03.91] "Butayay aunti?" that means, I don't know what you just said
[01:09.14] I will remember the marketplace
[01:11.83] And the women selling smoked corn and plantain
[01:15.23] I will remember the taste of moi-moi and egusi soup, ogbono soup, pepper soup, dodo
[01:22.02] The sound of Doris pounding yam
[01:24.44] Fresh oranges from the Arimogija farm
[01:28.39] When Boston city lights mask the majesty of my favorite constellations
[01:34.41] I will remember the moon
[01:36.99] Pregnant and smiling at me because I am a poet
[01:41.48] As if she knows that I am invested enough to write about it
[01:45.96] And because I am a poet
[01:50.04] I will remember the unseen
[01:52.79] The homeless, and the beggars, the roadside wanderers
[01:57.25] The people just trying to survive
[02:00.62] I remember the children roadside selling cell phones and unwanted trinkets
[02:04.89] I will remember the local roads beaten and eroded by rain and time
[02:10.86] Huts built beside a 15-story hotel sky rise
[02:14.53] So many having so much
[02:16.42] Neighbours with others living with nothing but the hand-me-downs on their backs
[02:21.14] And the realities of poverty crushing their promises of tomorrow
[02:25.98] I choose to leave behind my rose colored glasses in my grandfather's village
[02:31.14] Because when my plane finally lands back in Boston
[02:35.18] I need to believe that Nigeria changes me every single time
[02:40.14] Call it a small doze of third world reality, what ever you call it
[02:44.75] These are the moments that teach us how to recognize what we take for granted
[02:49.80] Constant electricity and clean water
[02:52.39] Hospitals on every corner
[02:54.76] The opportunity for us to rise beyond our native borders
[03:01.04] These are the details that risk a fate of becoming lost or forgotten
[03:07.81] Like sounds of the morning
[03:11.53] Because when the city returns
[03:14.17] When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers surrounds my senses
[03:20.56] Diminishing this version of my imagination
[03:27.65] I will remember this
[03:30.71] I need to remember this
[03:34.76]
[00:04.11] I choose the evening to pray, I remember this as it is
[00:08.38] For when the city returns
[00:10.78] When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers
[00:14.90] Surround my senses, diminishing this version of my imagination
[00:21.21] I will remember this
[00:23.30] The silence and the nighttime
[00:25.72] I will remember red sand on bare feet
[00:28.39] My skin sticky glistening in the sun
[00:31.47] My hair like untamed wool
[00:33.82] I will remember the air thick of Africa
[00:39.33] I will remember my mother in the night
[00:41.75] And the children she cares for
[00:43.80] I will see them once more as they play
[00:45.71] Peeking at me from the crack in the doorway
[00:48.65] I will remember my aunty, and her famous jellof rice
[00:52.00] Asking me in flawless Esan native tongue
[00:54.95] "Ehen, Iyeoka ofure, onegbe?"
[00:57.52] That means, "Iyeoka how is everything you're too skinny"
[01:00.78] And I, struggling to keep up, clumsily responding
[01:03.91] "Butayay aunti?" that means, I don't know what you just said
[01:09.14] I will remember the marketplace
[01:11.83] And the women selling smoked corn and plantain
[01:15.23] I will remember the taste of moi-moi and egusi soup, ogbono soup, pepper soup, dodo
[01:22.02] The sound of Doris pounding yam
[01:24.44] Fresh oranges from the Arimogija farm
[01:28.39] When Boston city lights mask the majesty of my favorite constellations
[01:34.41] I will remember the moon
[01:36.99] Pregnant and smiling at me because I am a poet
[01:41.48] As if she knows that I am invested enough to write about it
[01:45.96] And because I am a poet
[01:50.04] I will remember the unseen
[01:52.79] The homeless, and the beggars, the roadside wanderers
[01:57.25] The people just trying to survive
[02:00.62] I remember the children roadside selling cell phones and unwanted trinkets
[02:04.89] I will remember the local roads beaten and eroded by rain and time
[02:10.86] Huts built beside a 15-story hotel sky rise
[02:14.53] So many having so much
[02:16.42] Neighbours with others living with nothing but the hand-me-downs on their backs
[02:21.14] And the realities of poverty crushing their promises of tomorrow
[02:25.98] I choose to leave behind my rose colored glasses in my grandfather's village
[02:31.14] Because when my plane finally lands back in Boston
[02:35.18] I need to believe that Nigeria changes me every single time
[02:40.14] Call it a small doze of third world reality, what ever you call it
[02:44.75] These are the moments that teach us how to recognize what we take for granted
[02:49.80] Constant electricity and clean water
[02:52.39] Hospitals on every corner
[02:54.76] The opportunity for us to rise beyond our native borders
[03:01.04] These are the details that risk a fate of becoming lost or forgotten
[03:07.81] Like sounds of the morning
[03:11.53] Because when the city returns
[03:14.17] When the sound of the green-line trolley cars and skyscrapers surrounds my senses
[03:20.56] Diminishing this version of my imagination
[03:27.65] I will remember this
[03:30.71] I need to remember this
[03:34.76]