Fountainhead Lounge: The Smoky Hideout

Lyrics

[Intro]
Up the glass elevator...
Twenty-first floor.
The doors sigh open.

[Verse 1]
Dark wood walls that drink the light.
A heavy armchair, deep blue night.
The clink of ice in a lowball glass.
A ghost of a trumpet, made of brass.
You don't feel it at first...
This slow, slow turn.
Just the Westin, where it wasn't before.
A lesson you have to learn.

[Chorus]
This is the Fountainhead waltz.
One quiet degree at a time.
John Portman's concrete and glass carousel.
Forty-five minutes to change your view.
And the city just watches you.

[Verse 2]
The man in the corner, with the Georgia Power tie...
He's selling a future, in a whisper, not a lie.
The couple by the window, on a second date from '72...
Their hands almost touching.
Everything is new.
And the smoke from my cigarette...
it rises straight up.
The only thing in here that isn't turning.

[Chorus]
This is the Fountainhead waltz.
One quiet degree at a time.
John Portman's concrete and glass carousel.
Forty-five minutes to change your view.
And the city just watches you.

[Bridge]
They called it the future, back in sixty-seven.
A spaceship for cocktails, a mechanical heaven.
But the future just keeps revolving...
shows you the same streets from a different seat.
The same pinprick headlights...
on a long, slow retreat.

[Outro]
The city completes its turn.
Peachtree Center is back where it belongs.
The drummer lays down his brushes.
Just the ice, melting now.
Another forty-five minutes... gone.