Zach wrote a song because he got tired of the same line: you ain’t from here, you didn’t grow up here, why don’t you just move to Madison.He played it on the air. “From Here.” It’s going on the album.817 to the 769. White boy raising a family in the blackest city in America. Dirty cops, youth in detention, Uncle Ray’s, work in the cut since 2016. They’d love him if he had more melanin, wrote a check, kept quiet, and blamed the elephant every election. He says the glory goes to Christ and the city still ain’t showing him love. Last line hits: it’s obvious I ain’t from here — I’m heavenly.After the track we sat in it. I told him I’ve heard every one of those lines since Save Jackson started. Fondren and Belhaven living in a bubble and acting like I-20 is the city limits. Two wings on the bird: he’s still doing the work on the ground, I’m in the anger phase of the ministry. This is still a Jackson show even though I can drive around the city every day if I want to. Jackson used to own the restaurants and the nightlife. Now it has to compete. That’s not a knock. That’s the bill coming due.