Eight Four Three

This track comes from Aaron Stransky's core identity — Folly Beach roots, 843 area code, the raw unfiltered version. It tackles An anthem for the 843 area code — Charleston, Folly Beach, the low country lifestyle, the people, the culture. The lyrics get specific — "Where the Spanish moss is hanging and the shrimp boats roam" — because personal tracks on Majik's are personal for real, not performatively. The pop production matches the energy of the confession. It hits anthemic and proud, in that order. Every personal track in the catalogue comes from a real moment, a real feeling, a real person. This one is no exception.

[verse 1] If you know, you know, there ain't no place like home Where the Spanish moss is hanging and the shrimp boats roam King Street on a Saturday, the market in the morning Sweetgrass baskets, church bells, nobody's in a hurry dawning From Mount Pleasant to the beach, from Summerville to the pier Every sunset hits different, that's why people end up here Area code tattooed, not on skin but on the soul Eight four three, that's the zip code of my bones [chorus] Eight four three, that's where I'm from Salt water running through me like a drum Eight four three, where the palmetto stands Low country living, low country plans Raise your glass if you feel it in your chest Eight four three, baby, we're the best [verse 2] Friday night on Folly, bonfire on the sand Somebody brought a guitar, somebody brought a band Shrimp and grits at midnight, sweet tea when the sun comes up Charleston hospitality, we always fill your cup A-A-Ron came from elsewhere but the salt water claimed me Gave me roots in sandy soil and the ocean named me OG Unicorn of the low country, that's my crown Ain't no castle on a hill, just a beach town [chorus] Eight four three, that's where I'm from Salt water running through me like a drum Eight four three, where the palmetto stands Low country living, low country plans Raise your glass if you feel it in your chest Eight four three, baby, we're the best [bridge] I've been to every coast and I've seen every shore I've walked through foreign cities and I've knocked on every door But nothing feels like pulling off the highway into home Where the air is thick with summer and you're never quite alone [chorus] Eight four three, that's where I'm from Salt water running through me like a drum Eight four three, where the palmetto stands Low country living, low country plans Raise your glass if you feel it in your chest Eight four three, baby, we're the best [outro] Eight four three Low country till I die