Home in Tennessee – A Personal Journey
“Always come home.”
I wrote this piece during a time when I was on the move constantly. 2024 was a year filled with airports, hotel rooms, unfamiliar cities, and long drives. Each trip had its purpose—some exciting, some exhausting—but no matter where I was, there was always a moment where I’d catch myself daydreaming about home.
Tennessee.
Not just the place, but the people.
The sounds. The stillness.
The reds of the trees in autumn.
My family’s laughter echoing through the kitchen.
That first breath of crisp Southern air after landing at the airport.
That’s what I missed. That’s what this piece is about.
The Song’s Story
Home in Tennessee is my attempt to put that feeling into music. I wanted to capture more than just nostalgia—I wanted to show the emotional arc of being away, and the overwhelming peace of finally returning.
It begins with a woman’s voice—she sets the stage. She sings about Tennessee like it’s a living, breathing character. Her lines are simple, warm, grounded—like someone describing a photo album to a loved one.
Then a male voice enters. His tone is different—quieter, distant. He’s not in Tennessee. He’s somewhere far off, missing what she’s describing. There’s a longing in his phrasing, a kind of aching restraint. That’s me, in all those hotel rooms, watching videos from home, listening to messages from friends, scrolling past family photos.
Then comes the bridge—and this is where everything changes.
The two voices come together in counterpoint. They don’t sing the same words or the same melody, but their voices move around each other like they’re on parallel roads, heading the same direction. It’s not just musically interesting—it’s deeply symbolic. That bridge is the journey. It’s the effort it takes to close the distance between where you are and where your heart belongs.
And then—finally—they arrive. The last chorus is sung in unison. The two voices, once apart, are now together. That’s the moment of reunion. That’s stepping through the door, hugging your people, smelling the autumn leaves outside your window. That’s home.
Musically Speaking
I kept the instrumentation simple on purpose.
Acoustic guitar carries the emotional tone—warm, honest, unfiltered.
Drums are subtle but essential, giving the track forward motion without rushing the listener.
And the vocals—they do the heavy lifting. They’re not just narrators; they are the story.
I love how the bridge uses contrapuntal lines to take what could have been a straightforward folk song and push it into a more progressive, artistic space. That moment of melodic complexity reflects how tangled and nonlinear the emotional journey home can be.
The Visuals
We filmed the visuals during peak autumn in Tennessee. If you’ve never seen the red trees here—really seen them—you’re missing something extraordinary. The leaves don’t just turn; they burn. The reds are deep and rich, and when sunlight hits them, the entire landscape glows like a memory you didn’t know you had.
I wanted the visuals to match the song in tone—not flashy or stylized, but sincere and vivid. Every shot is a piece of the world I was missing while I was away.
If You’ve Ever Missed Home…
This song is for you.
If you’ve traveled far and found your heart tugged back toward the people who know you best—this is yours.
If you’ve ever walked through your front door after being gone too long and exhaled like you hadn’t breathed in weeks—this is your soundtrack.
Thank You
For listening. For watching. For letting me share a piece of my story with you.
If this music resonates with you, I hope you’ll carry it with you the next time you’re far from home.
Because no matter where we go, no matter how long we’re gone…
Always come home.
