CONCRETE ANGEL

Sometimes love is like construction - you think you're building a house, but you end up with a wall. Brick by brick, word by silence, and now you can't hear a breath or a heartbeat behind this concrete. It's still beautiful, even, and reliable - just cold, like in a stairwell at nite. The song is like a last attempt to reach someone who has walled himself off. There's weariness in her, but not anger. There's still tenderness there, just tired, with the aftertaste of a sleepless nite and a quiet admission: "I'm not saving anymore." It sounds like love that didn't die - it just froze, becoming a concrete angel.