ISSUE 3 / FALL 2005
Issue 3
Music

Going West
by Ira Marlowe

Roots
by Sonya Hunter

Memphis
by Jane Selkye

Touching down in Knoxville
by True Margrit

Touching Down in Knoxville
by True Margrit

Knoxville, Tennessee is my hometown. I went to high school and college there, I had my first apartment there, first job, first kiss, first nightclub gigs there. And then I moved to California where I had many more jobs, apartments, kisses, and gigs. Yet the map always looked like this: "Knoxville" in big bold familiar letters in the southeast of the U.S. wilderness and "San Francisco" in lower case alien letters perched precariously on a jagged bay way over in the west and a homesick stick figure of me standing by Golden Gate Bridge gazing east. I would go home and visit my mom and my friends every year. But then I was broke, or busy gigging, or in love, or brokenhearted and lonely and-snap!--four years went by and I hadn't gone home. And finally, when at the end of those four years, I did get on the plane to fly east, I knew the map had changed.


Lyrics

waiting for the plane to land
a stranger in my homeland
we flew through Atlanta's lights
and San Francisco's remote tonight

I'll be touching down in Knoxville

the streets don't quite look the same
though I recall their names
different houses with different beds
and San Francisco in my head

I'll be touching down in Knoxville

they say all roads lead to home
but there's a fork in my road
three thousand miles wide
'cause you're in San Francisco tonight

I'll be touching down in Knoxville

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