Englishman in Pécs

Описание: “Englishman in Pécs” is a quiet, bittersweet song about loving a place you don’t quite live in —
returning twice a year, belonging without claiming, and finding home through family rather than geography.

Inspired in spirit by songs about identity and place, this one is about the in-between:
marriage, chosen family, and learning that some homes are borrowed, but no less real.

Recorded and mastered independently.
Thank you for listening.

Lyrics below.

[Verse 1]
Landed in Budapest with a single carry-on
Took the M6 south ’til the city lights were gone
Passed fields and factories, a slow Hungarian sky
Where my wife’s roots deepen and my own learn to fly
Her parents at the door, “Jó napot!” tight embrace
I’m back in their world, a familiar foreign place

[Chorus]
Én nem lakom itt, de visszajövök
(I don’t live here, but I come back)
Kétszer egy évben, mint egy régi könyv
(Twice a year, like an old book)
From the TV tower hills to the Zsolnay shine
I’m just an Englishman, and Pécs is a home of mine

[Verse 2]
I’ve memorised the stairs creak in their Pécsi flat
The smell of pörkölt simmering, the cat upon the mat
I try to help with firewood, I mostly get it wrong
Her father smiles, “Nem baj,” and hums a folk song
We walk the sleepy centre, past churches, clocks, and doors
And I’m a guest who’s learning where I fit on cobbled floors

[Chorus]
Én nem lakom itt, de visszajövök
(I don’t live here, but I come back)
Kétszer egy évben, mint egy régi könyv
(Twice a year, like an old book)
From the TV tower hills to the Zsolnay shine
I’m just an Englishman, and Pécs is a home of mine

[Bridge]
Six months away, then back again — it’s neither here nor there
But in that in-between, I find a second self somewhere
Between the “Helló” and “Viszlát,” between the kiss and the delay
A love that doesn’t live here, but knows it’s meant to stay

[Verse 3]
We’ll leave with jars of lekvár and photos on the phone
A suitcase full of moments to carry back alone
Until the next flight lands and Budapest greets us grey
And we drive down to Pécs to hear her mother say…
“Üdvözöljük otthon” — welcome home — though home’s not where I’m from
But in her voice, the word feels soft, and somehow I belong

[Outro]
So I’ll keep this double life, this coming and this go
This loving of a country that I’ll never fully know
But when they say “Jó éjszakát,” and the Pécs night settles deep…
I’m an Englishman in Hungary…
And part of me stays here, asleep.

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