Two Hours, Lenox to the Park

Lyrics

Yeah.
It was always April.

We’d start the crawl up at Lenox Square.
See the line of cars stretching back on Peachtree.
Windows down, even if the air was thick.
1994. The whole city was here.
Every speaker from every trunk open to the sky.
Gold Dayton rims turning so slow you could count the spokes.
This wasn't a traffic jam.
This was the parade.

Two hours, Lenox to the Park.
Felt like the whole world was in the car.
Bass rattling the glass towers, leaving our mark.
Two miles an hour was fast enough.
Two hours, Lenox to the Park.
Just us, and the sun, and the coming dark.

Smell of hot asphalt and fried fish from a truck parked on the curb.
Someone’s selling mixtapes, hand to hand, window to window.
A whole economy moving at five miles an hour.
We're passing the country club, they're staring from behind the gates.
We're bumping OutKast so loud the leaves on the dogwoods shake.
This ain't their Buckhead today.
This is ours.

Two hours, Lenox to the Park.
Felt like the whole world was in the car.
Bass rattling the glass towers, leaving our mark.
Two miles an hour was fast enough.
Two hours, Lenox to the Park.
Just us, and the sun, and the coming dark.

They wrote about gridlock in the paper. Called it a problem.
Said the noise was too much.
But they didn't understand.
This wasn't noise. This was a frequency.
From the AUC picnic in '83, a heartbeat that grew.
This was family you hadn't met yet, in the car next to you.
A city breathing together. For a weekend.

Two hours... Lenox to the Park...
Yeah...
The signs came down in 1999.
But you can still feel the vibration in the street.
Still feel it.