Out East Lyrics

I come from the place where the evening is warm

Warm enough for sweat to coat my skin

The rough smell of nicotine brushed against my nostrils

As I brought bags of groceries into Uncle Ruben's house

I did my best not to inhale because it messes with my sinuses

The Sun was drifting off to slumber, but its presence

Lingered for a little bit longer

Small, old homes line the streets of the Eastside

Better known as "out East" if you're from these parts

Houses filled with Black pain and perseverance

Remorse and resilience

Brown skin glistens while the grass is watered

While the soil is tilled, on the trek to the corner store

Or sitting out on the porch watching time go by

Watching time go, bye

Your family's roots were planted here

As you branched throughout the city

You remember these homes well.

You know this feeling of familiar

Liquor stores and Church's or Popeyes' Chicken

They staples to the 'hood. But you know, it's something special

You may live somewhere else

But you never forget where you came from

Many images appear in my head when I think about Out East

I remember, specifically, my Memama and Pepapa's house

It was a small home with doors on two sides of the house,

Parallel to each other. One door closest to the garage in the back

And the other closest to the porch

And the street they lived on, East 25th

And welded onto the metal gate was Pepapa's name

C. James. The same gate that surrounded the beautiful garden

They grew and cared for. A thick oak tree

Was encompassed by plants and flowers

In every color of the spectrum

The grass was watered almost every other day, I believe.

So the yard was always lush, healthy, and vibrant

As time went on, my visits became less and less since they

Ain't home anymore. I mean, my Uncle Ruben lives there now

But, he can do better, but you know

I understand and appreciate things differently now that I'm older

There's a feeling that carves itself into the pit of your stomach

When you return to a place from which you came.

The feeling, made up of memories and experiences

Sits and waits until you decide to acknowledge it

That's what keeps bringing me back out East

I come from the place where the evening was warm.

Warm enough to muster fears and agitation in your heart

The heat of Florida summers, it never seems to subside

And, you know, a lot can happen in a hot house.

A lot of good and a lot of bad

It took a while before I understood why folks sit outside

They need a break from the thoughts their homes force them

To reckon with. The voices they hope to silence

The white noise they hope to fill with something...anything

Anything but those thoughts

Warm Southern breezes flow through the empty lots

Filled with moths and butterflies, empty Colt 45 cans

Brewski bottles, worn down tires, and weeds

The sounds of crickets harmonize with the cicadas and grasshoppers

And around 7pm is when the sky is saturated with orange rays

Evening time. You know, that's when

It's the most beautiful out on that porch

And it's something about out East

That keeps me grounded to the Earth

This connection to my ancestors who

Saw that same 7pm sunlight

Hot summer evenings, their skin glowing

And sitting on the porch watching time go by

Watching time go, bye

I come from the place where the evening was warm

I come from out East