The Hospital on the Hill: Wellstar North Fulton

Lyrics

[Intro]
Three thousand Hospital Boulevard.
Set back on the hill.

[Verse 1]
A quiet engine, running day and night.
Not the water-powered kind from 1839.
This one runs on paperwork and the power grid.
The ambulance bay waits, doors open for the next arrival.
A steady hum, behind brick and tinted glass.
The business of mending.

[Chorus]
Two hundred beds, and a story for every one.
A broken arm from the Big Creek Greenway.
A new lung on the third floor.
And the helicopter on the roof, a promise beating against the North Fulton sky.
Wellstar North Fulton.
The quiet ledger of the town.

[Verse 2]
Eight in the morning on a Saturday.
The shift change in the cafeteria.
The smell of disinfectant and burnt coffee.
Linoleum floors reflecting long fluorescent bars.
The night-shift nurses hand off their charts.
The Spanish-speaking orderlies mop the floors.
Their names are not on any monuments.

[Chorus]
Two hundred beds, and a story for every one.
A first breath in the maternity ward.
A last one, behind a drawn curtain.
And the helicopter on the roof, a promise beating against the North Fulton sky.
Wellstar North Fulton.
The quiet ledger of the town.

[Bridge]
Less than three miles, as the crow flies,
from the Vickery Creek ruins.
Where the old mill wheel stopped turning.
This land was Bulloch land once, or near enough.
Now it mends the town their descendants built.
A different kind of company.
A different kind of account.

[Outro]
The automatic doors sigh open, sigh shut.
Another chart is filed.
Another name is written down.
Just not in the history books.