Krog Street Market: Feast in the Foundry

Lyrics

Hey, old building.
Listen to you now.
Humming a new kind of tune.
Right here on Krog Street.

I remember the stories.
Eighteen eighty-nine.
Atlanta Stove Works, fire and iron.
The sweat on the brick, the smoke in the sky.
Forging the hearths for a city on the rise.
You were all business then.
All clang and all heat.
Feeding the homes from down the street.

But the foundry is feasting now.
The fires still burn bright.
Not for the iron, but for the appetite.
The hammers are silent, but the sizzle and steam...
Are cooking a new Atlanta dream.
From Fred's Meat & Bread to Superica's door,
This is what your heat is for.

Then you went quiet for a while.
Gathered dust and memories.
Held Tyler Perry's props, the ghosts of comedies.
A warehouse of stories waiting for a scene.
Then November two thousand fourteen...
The doors swung wide, a new aroma filled the air.
Coffee and spices, a welcome to share.

And the foundry is feasting now.
The fires still burn bright.
Not for the iron, but for the appetite.
The hammers are silent, but the sizzle and steam...
Are cooking a new Atlanta dream.
From Fred's Meat & Bread to Superica's door,
This is what your heat is for.

And the people come walking right off the BeltLine.
Find a seat at the long wooden tables, a space that's yours and mine.
This beautiful, controlled chaos.
A hundred conversations in a single room.
Sharing a meal, chasing away the gloom.
It's more than just food, it's the pulse, it's the beat.
The heart of the neighborhood, right here on Krog Street.

Yeah, the foundry is feasting.
The old Stove Works is breathing.
The sun goes down on Inman Park.
And you're still glowing in the dark.
Still glowing.