Odes to Atlanta Soccer · Track 12 · middle

Ode to Decatur FC

Decatur FC women's soccer club — praise anthem for the city's women's pre-pro / amateur side. Friday-night home pitch on the city park, supporters from the square walking down at quitting time, scarves overhead. Sponsor weave honoring Switchyards (the work-club where the owner is a major supporter), Arrow Exterminators and AJC via the "Path to the Pitch" youth initiative, Tandem Bank as community partner, Inter Atlanta FC as development-pathway scout. Hand-painted lines on the home park contrast with the Five Stripes' billion-dollar stadium. Bo's rangy male tenor swaggering and grinning, anthemic Rock Opera energy, "praise praise praise" gang-vocal chorus.

Lyrics

[Intro]
(stadium crowd hum swelling, distant whistle, a cathedral organ chord rising)
On the square in Decatur, before the kick.
Scarves up.

[Verse 1]
The floodlamps catch the gnats above the home pitch.
The keeper bounces twice on the goal line, gloves clapping.
The defenders stretch, the midfielders pass and receive.
Eight dollars at the gate, kettle corn smoke in the air.
Families on the bleachers, kids on their dads' shoulders.
The captain ties the armband. The whistle blows.

[Chorus]
Praise the keeper diving to the corner.
Praise the winger cutting on a dime.
Praise the seventeen-year-old striker, first goal of her life,
running to the goalmouth choke-arms wide.
Praise praise praise.

[Verse 2]
The Switchyards crew walks down at quitting time, badges still around their necks.
The Path to the Pitch bus unloads — Arrow's name on the door, AJC reporter in row eight.
The Tandem Bank teller in line for kettle corn, neighbor by day.
The Inter Atlanta scout in row five with a notebook, tracking the under-fourteens.
The old coach in his weatherproof, watching the back four hold the line.
The square will fill again at full time.

[Bridge]
(single drumroll, then the full kit opens)
The Five Stripes have their stadium and the billion-dollar roof.
The Panthers have their pitch up in Marietta.
But here on the home park — lines hand-painted Saturday morning,
the Switchyards crew up in the bleachers,
the Path to the Pitch kids running between halves —
this is the club we walked to.

[Outro]
(the crowd hum returns, the organ holds a final chord, gang vocals fade out)
Praise. Praise. Praise.
The home pitch under the sodium lamps.
The scarves overhead in a long bright row.