Concrete Genesis (Version 2)

Intro

Mixer truck idling on Verrick and Tenth since five a.m.

Pop's boots gray to the ankle, lime dust on his skin

Told me concrete's just a promise water hasn't kept

Pour it wrong, it forgives you never — remembers what you left

Verse

I was six on the curb watching him level the walk

Steel trowel in his palm like a preacher with his talk

Foreman Dale said cut the cure time, contract's due at noon

Pop said give it the full week, Dale said give it till June's ruined

They poured it anyway, half a day short of right

Building stood eleven years before it cracked one night

Not his fault on paper, but he carried it like debt

Said a shortcut's just a promise that you haven't broken yet

I got his hands, same burn scar shaped like a comma

Learned the mix by watching, one part water, two parts armor

Four parts patience, that's the part he never taught in words

Showed me in the silence when the whole crew's voice got blurred

Sixteen, I stood on that same crack, watched it spider wide

Understood the building held the choice he had to hide

Now I pour my own foundations, test the weight before I build

Every crack you patch too fast is a truth you never killed

Chorus

Everything solid started liquid once

This is concrete genesis, this is how we come

Poured in pressure, set in time, that's the only way it's real

Nothing built to last was ever rushed to seal

Verse

Nineteen, corner store job, Reyes counting out the safe

Told me skim a little slow, nobody checks the same

Said the numbers cure themselves if nobody looks too hard

I stood there like wet cement, still soft, still hard to guard

Thought about my father's crack, the one Dale made him pour

Said no to Reyes calm, kept stocking the same floor

He fired me by Friday, called it attitude, not pride

I called it four parts patience, wouldn't rush what's inside

Two years later that store's a lot, chain-linked and grown with weeds

Reyes doing time upstate for skimming other people's needs

I'm on Verrick still, laying block for the community hall

Foreman now myself, and nobody rushes when I call

My son's six, watching me level out the frame

Same trowel, different handle, same reason, different name

Tell him concrete's just a promise water hasn't kept

Pour it slow, it holds you — that's the only kind of debt

Chorus

Everything solid started liquid once

This is concrete genesis, this is how we come

Poured in pressure, set in time, that's the only way it's real

Nothing built to last was ever rushed to seal

Outro

Curb's still standing, crack and all, on Verrick and Tenth

Pop passed two winters back, left the mix in my hands

I don't rush the pour no more, I let it take its time

Everything I build now holds the weight of everyone in mine