This Place Is Not My Home

by Blake Farha

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1.
It’s been a year to the day. Not a lot has changed. I’m just a bit older, But I still feel the same As that day one year ago When I came back home, Telling myself not to be scared Because adventures also roam. I live my life one phase at a time. It helps to keep me moving; It helps keep hope alive. When I’m unsure of my direction in this life I delude myself: “Everything will be different at the Next stop down the line.” I wouldn’t say that I Wasted all my time, But I can’t deny things haven’t gone exactly How I hoped they might. Which doesn’t meant that things aren’t good. It doesn’t mean I would Go back in time and skip that flight, Though I sometimes wish I could. I live my life one phase at a time. It helps to keep me moving; It helps keep hope alive. When I’m unsure of my direction in this life I delude myself: “Everything will be different at the Next stop down the line.”
2.
Absurdity 03:56
I’ve been rolling this boulder up the hill Although I know tomorrow I’ll have to push it still. From this solitary peak I can see I’m not alone. There’s a billion contented people All shackled to their stone. I’m not the first to notice the absurdity Of trading off our should for complacency. I’ve been telling myself I’m in the wrong. I should give up all this dreaming and shove that rock along, But this self imposed chain is tearing at my skin. I’d rather strangle myself with it, much to my chagrin. I’m not the first to notice the absurdity Of trading off our should for complacency. We should all be so ashamed of our Complicity in this charade, For living life in vain, But who wants to feel the pain? Who wants to feel the pain?
3.
I collected my change, Bought a cup of cheap black coffee. The styrofoam warms my hands. I transmit my grime, I spread my dirt across This pure white cup of mine. I ride the bus just to get warm, Watch the same tired sights pass by Until they kick me off. Just a bought of bad luck, I haven’t begged for a dime because my pride Won’t let me hold up a sign, But everyone averts their eyes. I’m just a smudge on this world, Black as this filth on this cup of mine. And I ride the bus just to get warm, Feel the same fleeting glances in the angry eyes That pass me by. No, this sidewalk is not my home. I’m just waiting here for the tides To change my way. And I swear I won’t stay long. This is not my first foray Into the depths of adversity. But until my feet Get back on solid ground I’ll ride the bus, Just to get warm. I collect my change, Buy a cup of cheap black coffee, And spread my grime on this cup of mine.
4.
In New York City there’s a bright-eyed boy, The ink on his diploma still wet. His daddy pulled strings to obtain that piece He was owed of The American Dream. Six months later he signed his name, Foreclosing on a family’s home. The bank slammed the door and bolted the latch On their piece of The American Dream. And his eyes, they were dulled, And his mind, it was pulled In directions he never foresaw. It’s an end-sum game With avarice to blame. The conclusion he was forced to draw: Someone’s success is the Failure of somebody else. In Tifton, Georgia there’s a hardened mom Working her hands to the bone Stocking the shelves at that new Dollar Store For her piece of The American Dream. And six months later she’s hanging her head in the welfare office downtown. She swallowed her pride, Now she’s waiting in line For her piece of The American Dream. Well her hands full of cracks And that pain in her back Were all she had to show for all she’s toiled. And when her kids would ask Why she was slugging from that flask, She’d just smile and say the ending can’t be spoiled: Someone’s success is the Failure of somebody else. We’ve all got our mountain to climb. Someone’s success is the Failure of somebody else.
5.
Not Again 04:46
I know why people choose to Devote themselves to a God they’ve never seen. What’s there to question When no matter what you do you’re just A part of some outdated prophecy? Maybe I’d be better off if I could Make believe there’s a Timeless diety Keeping guard over his massive flock Among billions of sheep he’s got A great plan just for me. I throw my hands up. Oh no, I woke up today When last night I’d hoped My eyes would never open again. It’s been months since I awoke to find Anything but this Suffocating feeling of dread. The mirror lies. Could it be that I’m The ragged old man Who’s staring back at me, And if I am, why did no one think to Inform me I grew up long ago? I throw my hands up. I throw my hands up. I’d believe anything To get out of my head. I would do anything To slither from this bed. I’d throw my hands up. I’d throw my hands up.
6.
A sign on my door, which I drew at 12 years old Still designates this tiny space as mine, But the paint’s been changed, Not a shred of me remains, Save a message in the veil of dust upon the shelves Whose bald spots where my life should go Remind me this is not my home. Well I’d expect to find myself More hesitant to walk away, But I suppose I realized Long ago this place Stopped being my home. A flag adorns the front page of my passport. It designates a patch of Earth I’m free to roam, But the pages stained With swirls of colored in Would imply theres’ somewhere else that I belong. I tear my roots up from the loam Because this place is not my home. Well I’d expect to find myself More hesitant to walk away, But I suppose I realized Long ago this place Stopped being my home. I tear my roots up from the loam Because this place is not my home. I tear my roots up from the loam Because this place is not my home.
7.
I’ve been asked before What it is I’m running from. I laughed it off and said, “I’d prefer to think there’s something I’m running toward.” When I pack my bags And hitch a ride on the back of a gale force wind, No matter where I land I always seem to wind up Right back where I began. If everything around me has changed, And I still wake up feeling the same, I’m the only common denominator. I’m the common denominator. Working dead end jobs In the guise of buying myself a little time. Strangers as my friends In the hopes of finding something to tie Myself to a place I don’t belong, Where I don’t have to look my past Or myself in the eyes. If everything around me has changed, And I still wake up feeling the same, I’m the only common denominator. I’m the common denominator. If everything around me has changed, And I still wake up feeling the same, I’m the only common denominator. I’m the common denominator. The next place that I land I’ll make the change.

about

When a lifelong search for belonging leads right back to the starting point, when home is as elusive as the horizon and as impermanent as a childhood bedroom, where else is there left to search but within?

“If everything around me has changed, and I still wake up feeling the same, I’m the only common denominator. I’m the common denominator.”

credits

released May 24, 2018

All songs written, performed, recorded, mixed, and mastered by Blake Farha.

All lyrics written by Blake Farha.

Cover photo by Sam Noble.

I'd like to thank all my friends and family all over the world who have been there at some stage in my journey to guide and support me as I galavanted across the globe looking for a place to call home; who have, each in their own way, aided in the construction and fortification of that internal harbor, that most fundamental port of call, neglected for a lifetime, where I should have cast my anchor all along.

A special thanks to Brad, who never once asked me to pipe down or stop playing as I wrote, rewrote, and practiced these songs in our apartment; a brother-in-arms whose empathy, love, and support helped see me through the making of this album, and whose companionship gave me the strength and guidance I needed to sail from one port to the next.

How's that for an extended metaphor?

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Blake Farha Berlin, Germany

Blake Farha is a native Texan singer/songwriter who has been playing and writing music for over 17 years.

Fueled by his transience, Blake’s vocal driven tunes are reflections of wanderlust, that ever elusive search for self, and the people he meets along the way.
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