Edgewood's Horizon: A Future Unwritten

Lyrics

The five AM quiet on Whitefoord Avenue.
Before the saws begin.
Before the first new dog walker passes with a paper cup.
Just the slow blue light, and the map of what's coming.

There's a glass box standing where Miss Evelyn's garden was.
Three stories of sharp corners and a rooftop deck.
I saw the construction dust settle on her azaleas last spring.
A fine gray powder on the pink blooms.
They tore her house down in a single morning.
Now there's a Tesla charging in the drive.
And the old oak in her yard... it's still there.
Watching.

Oh, Edgewood, what's this new song you're learning?
A melody of hammers and a baseline of loss.
This horizon you're drawing, with a brand new pen...
Is there room for the ghosts in the final cost?
A future unwritten, on a page torn in two.

The faces on the BeltLine, they smile so easily.
Bright leggings and Bluetooth headphones.
They don't see the chalk outlines of the porches that are gone.
They don't hear the echo of the screen doors slamming.
An old man sits on his stoop on Hardee Street.
Says he doesn't recognize the skyline anymore.
Just the angle of the sun in the afternoon.
That's the only thing that hasn't changed. Yet.

Oh, Edgewood, what's this new song you're singing?
A melody of progress and a baseline of fear.
This horizon you're painting, with a bold, bright brush...
Will we recognize our own faces here?
A future unwritten, on a page torn in two.

They say it's revitalization. A comeback story.
They point to the property values on a chart.
But who holds the pen?
Who's telling the story?
Whose names are missing from the record?
Whose front porch light went out for good?
For this shiny new beginning... what was the heart?

The five AM quiet on Whitefoord Avenue.
A crane cuts the silhouette of the dawn.
An empty lot waits.
A blueprint breathes.
The hum goes on.
And on... and on...