Krog Street Market: Where the Neighborhood Gathers

Lyrics

[Intro]
Hey, old Stove Works building.
I can still feel the heat in your bricks.
Not from the foundry anymore.
Something else is burning here now.

[Verse 1]
Your ghosts must be so confused.
The men with soot on their faces, from the eighteen-eighties.
They listened for the clang of cast iron, the shriek of the whistle.
Now it’s the hiss of an espresso machine.
The soft clack of a laptop key.
A first date happening where a furnace used to roar.
Two bar stools, side-by-side.

[Verse 2]
And the smells…
Not coal smoke, but cardamom and roasted coffee.
Not machine oil, but broth from a ramen stall, and fresh baked bread.
Strangers share these long wooden tables.
Their elbows almost touching.
A city of stories folded into a single room.
And right outside, the BeltLine breathes people in, breathes them out.
A steady, silent pulse.

[Chorus]
This is the living room now.
The de facto heart of the neighborhood.
No sofa, no television.
Just these tables, these faces, this light.
This is the hearth we gather 'round.
Under the high steel rafters of the past.

[Bridge]
I remember when Tyler Perry had his studios here.
Making worlds inside these walls.
And before that, you made stoves.
Meant to be the heart of a hundred thousand other homes.
And then, late in 2014, the doors opened on this.
A new kind of fire.
A new kind of warmth.

[Outro]
The sound of the train shaking the windowpane.
A reminder of the world moving past.
But in here…
In this living room…
For a little while…
We are all just home.