The Weeds Downtown

I know that Birmingham gets you down,
And I guess that makes sense
When so many old friends retired,
If not expired, by the time we were twenty-three.
Getting blacked out and locked up,
Cashed out and knocked up.
Look at it that way, there ain't much for me.

But just consider the weeds downtown, and how they grow:
How the Queen Anne's Lace covers hot parking lots like snow.

I know the new architecture's largely depressing,
And the politics are pretty regressive,
But ain't shining a light on what's dark
Kind of your thing?
The murder wave is abating,
And the population decline is stagnating.
If that ain't an invitation, darling, what could it be?
Addressed right to you and me?

Consider the weeds downtown, and how they grow:
How the Queen Anne's Lace covers hot parking lots like snow.
Paris and New York don't have honeysuckle vines like the ones on 32nd
Street.
I know that Birmingham gets you down, but look what it raised you up to
be.