Where we grew up you’d see the river flowing through the valley
from high upon the lookout where once men fell defending.
Winters here this river freezes flowing through the dark
concrete bridges of graffiti. It almost breaks your heart.
Home,
sometimes I yearn to go
home to the Tennessee
of my childhood memory.
Home,
sometimes I wish I stayed,
as I watch the moon grow fuller then again fade away.
Junes long ago we’d chase the sun off into the big dipper. Accompanied by crickets, our moms called us in to supper.
Don’t get me wrong, the city’s big & beautiful & bright,
but it doesn't call us in at night.
That song is gone forever.
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