Sweet Auburn Springfest: A Rhythmic Revival

Lyrics

Early May. 
The air is thick and sweet.
Before the crowds, just the sound of tents unfolding...
a generator humming to life on Auburn Avenue.

Then the smoke starts to rise.
From a grill down the block, a promise of barbecue.
They're frying funnel cakes by the APEX Museum.
Seventy-five degrees and the pavement is already soft.
A kid zips by on a scooter, weaving through folding chairs.
This whole street is holding its breath...
waiting for the spark.

This is the beat coming back.
The rhythm in the brick.
This is the heart of the city, loud and clear.
Hear that bass in your feet?
That's the sound of "we're still here."
Sweet Auburn sings again.

A bounce house inflates right in the shadow of Ebenezer Baptist.
Pink and yellow plastic against that solemn, sacred stone.
And from the main stage, a trumpet screams a high, joyful note.
A gospel choir warms up on the corner...
an R&B singer sound-checks down the way.
Every story has its own key.
Every generation finds its own beat.

This is the beat coming back.
The rhythm in the brick.
This is the heart of the city, loud and clear.
Hear that bass in your feet?
That's the sound of "we're still here."
Sweet Auburn sings again!

You can feel the ghosts walking with us.
You can feel John Lewis smiling on this crowd.
This joy isn't simple.
It's earned.
It's built on the foundations of every bank, every church, every struggle on this avenue.
This isn't just a party...
it's a testament.

This is the beat coming back!
The rhythm in the brick!
This is the heart of the city, loud and clear!
Hear that bass in your feet?
That's the sound of "we're still here!"
Sweet Auburn sings again!

The sun dips behind the skyline.
The lights on the tents click on.
That bass drum... it just keeps echoing.
Still here.
Still here.