Boulevard Crossing: BeltLine's New Horizon

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
Ryan Gravel, in 1999, you sketched lines on paper,
old rail corridors breathing new life.
I walk the Eastside Trail extension now,
from Piedmont Park down to Memorial Drive,
where Boulevard Crossing waits like an open hand.
The Southside Trail curls through here,
past Boulevard Heights and into Grant Park's edge.

[Chorus]
Oh, BeltLine, my winding companion,
you're stitching neighborhoods with asphalt veins,
from Summerhill's revival to Ormewood's quiet streets.
Multi-use path, you carry bicycles and footsteps,
promising horizons where old divisions fade.
In 2012, your Eastside opened,
and now Boulevard Crossing Park blooms green.

[Verse 2]
Shirley Franklin, you championed this in 2005,
council chambers echoing with plans.
Historic railroad corridors, once barriers,
now invite joggers and dreamers alike.
I feel the earth shift underfoot,
as construction hums near Peoplestown,
transforming clay into connections.

[Bridge]
But whispers of the missing rise—
residents pushed by rising tides,
small shops fading into new facades.
Yet here, in this linear park,
we glimpse a future shared,
where enmity dissolves in Atlanta's red soil.

[Verse 3]
Ongoing into the 2020s, your segments grow,
Southside Trail linking us all.
I address you, old corridor,
repurposed spine of the city,
carrying the weight of change.
From Glenwood Park's end,
you stretch hopeful arms.

[Chorus]
Oh, BeltLine, my winding companion,
you're stitching neighborhoods with asphalt veins,
from Summerhill's revival to Ormewood's quiet streets.
Multi-use path, you carry bicycles and footsteps,
promising horizons where old divisions fade.
In 2012, your Eastside opened,
and now Boulevard Crossing Park blooms green.

[Outro]
As dusk falls on Grant Park,
the porch lights glow,
and you, BeltLine, light the way forward.