Edgewood Streetcar: The Rumble to the East

Lyrics

They drew a line on a map with a wire.
Joel Hurt's wire.
And then you came.

You were made of Georgia pine and polished brass.
Your windows were wide enough to hold a whole future.
We could smell the ozone off the line after a rain.
We watched the motorman grip the dead man's handle,
a promise to get us home.
Overhead, the spiderweb of the Georgia Railway & Electric Co.
Zinging with power, pulling the city east.

Oh, the rumble down Edgewood Avenue.
The steady, grinding song of the wheels.
A clang of the bell at every corner, a warning and a welcome.
You were the iron heartbeat, carrying us out.
Past the last paved road, out to the new wood.

In the summer, they'd open your sides.
Let the humid Atlanta air rush right through.
We watched the bungalows rise from the clay,
one by one, like promises kept.
Carrying faces home from the factories downtown,
carrying shoppers with their parcels, their plans.
You were the daily ritual, the rhythm we set our clocks to.

Oh, the rumble down Edgewood Avenue.
The steady, grinding song of the wheels.
A clang of the bell at every corner, a warning and a welcome.
You were the iron heartbeat, carrying us out.
Past the last paved road, out to the new wood.

You weren't just a machine.
You were the vein connecting a new limb to the heart.
Your tracks were the first lines drawn.
The first structure in the dirt.
Before the sidewalks, before the streetlights, there was your path.
Your dependable rumble in the morning dark.

And your bell…
I can still hear it.
Echoing down the Avenue.
Bringing us home.