Rebar Superstition

[Verse 1]
The K-Car rusts on cinderblocks, same spot since '02.
The air tastes like diesel and wet concrete, nothing here is new.
Mr. Henderson on the porch swing, his motion is pendulous.
Says, "Them girders hold a memory, son, you gotta be credulous.
I see you watchin' every night, the sparks fall from the crown.
That ain't just metal that they're joining, that's the ghost of our whole town.
Every rivet is a last name, every cable is a prayer."
He stops the swing with a worn-out boot and just holds my stare.

[Chorus]
Don't watch the welders' fire too long, don't stare into the arc.
Some things get burned into the steel, they only show up in the dark.
It ain't a curse, it's just a debt, a blueprint and a mark.
A rebar superstition to keep from falling apart.

[Verse 2]
He says, "My uncle worked the Rouge plant, came home with dust in his throat.
Wore his Local 600 jacket like it was a holy coat.
Swore he saw faces in the hot slag, shimmerin' in the red.
'Don't ever look straight at it, boy,' was the only thing he said.
I see my father's heavy silence in the pre-cast second floor,
the way he'd check a spirit level by the handle of the door.
He never talked about the line, but I'd see it in his hands,
tryna build a foundation on this unforgiving land.

[Chorus]
Don't watch the welders' fire too long, don't stare into the arc.
Some things get burned into the steel, they only show up in the dark.
It ain't a curse, it's just a debt, a blueprint and a mark.
A rebar superstition to keep from falling apart.

[Bridge]
He passed me a cold Vernors, wiped his brow, the sun was sinking low.
The bottle sweats onto my palm, a story I already know.
"They tore down forty houses just to make that on-ramp clear.
Now you're the last one on this block with the family name still here."

[Outro]
The porch light hums. The bridge steel cools. A heavy, quiet grace.
...Thank you for the map, sir. I'll try not to lose my place.