Home is a composition about migration, identity and our longing for home. It was based on my own personal experience living in the US for the last four years of college and was inspired by the stories of migrant poets, musicians, artists and activists from around the world. Not that I don’t like the US, I love the US! But being away from home in Bangkok for such a long time (or short time for some) has made me begin to understand and appreciate the intangible things beyond food and culture that can make a person yearn for their homeland.
This piece was also an ode to my parents, including my grandparents and ancestors. Human history is one of migration. Being back in Bangkok for a year of research has given me ample time to begin fully appreciate mom and dad for their dreams and what they stand for, devoid of the fact that they are still parents and nag me to do the dishes.
Home features original lyrics and music by myself, written during the class “Composition for Musical Theater” taught by renowned Musical Theater composer, Andrew Gerle. This was my last composition written during college!
Read lyrics below or here. View the sheet music here.
(c) Lamtharn Hantrakul Copyright ID # 329789 Department of Intellectual Property, Thailand
Home
Lyrics and Music by Lamtharn (Hanoi) Hantrakul
Son:
Papa and Mama, I wanna go home to you
Back to wooden floors mats made of straw, siestas at two
Here the days they are cold, every man for himself
You’re called when you’re needed like books on a shelf
People they smile and say hello,
But it’s not the countryside I used to know
At home, I wanna go home.
Papa and Mama, I wanna go home tonight
I’m a shade out of place, neither black nor white
I could stay with you both, where I really belong
Remember the words of my childhood song
I miss the paddies in the dawn and the dusk
The thump of the wood pounding on rice husk
At home.
Father:
You’re a different kind of grain, not meant for this land
This earth may be home, but the soil is just sand
Stay in America, there’s warmth, there’s light
You’ll bud, you’ll sprout, the sun will be bright.
Son & Father:
Stay in America, Stay in America
Stay in America, Stay in America
I wanna go home, I wanna go home.
Son:
Papa and mama, is this really home for me?
But what about young ones? Future family?
Will my kids know the sound of the husk and the wood?
The paddies and straw mats like I think they should
What will become of my own childhood song?
Will the new grains feel they every belong?
What will become of my own childhood song?
Will the new grains feel they every belong?
At home, home.
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