Terminus: Rail Heart of Atlanta

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
Stephen Harriman Long, in 1837,
you drove that wooden stake into the red Georgia clay,
at the spot you chose, seven miles from the river,
high ground, healthy, you said.
The surveyor's transit caught the dawn light,
5:30 AM, summer heat already rising to 90 degrees.
Zero Mile Post, stone marker by 1850,
near what became Five Points.

[Chorus]
Terminus, end of the line,
before Marthasville in '43, Atlanta in '45.
Iron rails stretching out like veins,
from this heart, pumping life eastward,
to Kirkwood, first suburb on the tracks.
Creosote scent in the air, sharp and tarry,
the birth cry of a city.

[Verse 2]
John Thrasher, nineteen years old,
you called it Terminus over whiskey in a tavern,
rejecting Lumpkin for the rail's truth.
Workers, unnamed, enslaved hands turning earth,
their sweat mixing with pine sap,
laying ties for the Western & Atlantic.
The Texas locomotive, 1851, steaming in,
whistle cutting the cold December fog.

[Chorus]
Terminus, end of the line,
before Marthasville in '43, Atlanta in '45.
Iron rails stretching out like veins,
from this heart, pumping life eastward,
to Kirkwood, first suburb on the tracks.
Creosote scent in the air, sharp and tarry,
the birth cry of a city.

[Bridge]
Stake, you silent witness,
driven deep, holding the zero point.
Muscogee paths forgotten beneath,
their voices silenced in the progress roar.
From your mark, the city sprawls,
rails to Kirkwood, eastside DNA.

[Verse 3]
Cornmeal porridge over open fires,
workers' staple, dawn to dusk grind.
No records of those Black laborers,
their toil the unseen foundation.
Terminus Depot, wooden and rough in '39,
near Underground now, echoes fading.
But the pulse carries on, CSX rumbling still.

[Outro]
Terminus, you started it all,
rail heart beating in Kirkwood's chest.