Future's Blueprint: What Remains

Lyrics

I see the map of you spread out tonight.
Just lines on paper, glowing in the screen's light.

They draw a new road where the old woods breathe.
I smell the cut pine, the turned-over red earth.
Another foundation poured before the morning leaves.
Is this the future's sound? This constant rebirth?
The ghost of Butler's Mill is a hum in the wires.
The planner's pencil shades another block in.

So what's the blueprint, Brookhaven?
What remains when the dust settles again?
Beyond the steel and the glass and the hurried pen.
What story will you tell them, then?

Down on Peachtree, the river of light never stops.
Headlights bleeding into taillights, a current of souls.
Under the asphalt, I know the Muscogee trail still drops
down to the water, telling tales the concrete stole.
The old bell tower at Oglethorpe rings out the hour.
It doesn't care about the traffic, or the zoning fight.
Just marking time with its slow, granite power.

So what's the blueprint, Brookhaven?
What remains when the dust settles again?
Beyond the steel and the glass and the hurried pen.
What story will you tell them, then?

I think of the children who aren't born yet.
Their laughter will echo through Blackburn Park.
Will they know the meaning of a debt
to the land, to the memory, to the dark
soil that holds it all?
Will they plant new gardens, a different kind of green?
A new ceremony after the fall.
A harvest we have not yet seen.
July 24th, 2012... just another date on a wall.

The Capital City Club watches from its hill.
Will the blueprint hold?
Will the creek remember its name?
What remains...
What remains...