Peachtree Overture

Yeah, yeah

Late night on Peachtree Street

Warm rain beneath our feet

From the West End to the east This is where the rhythms

meet (yeah, yeah)

Red clay on the interstate

We make the music that they try to recreate Sitting on a

porch in the summer heat

Listening to the pulse of the city beat

(listen close)

Yeah,

where the red clay lies... (mmm-hmm)