[Intro]
A soft hum in the morning light, the clock a patient friend.
I rinse the days from the sink of time, I count to ten again.
[Verse 1]
Dust motes drift in the beam of sun, like tiny ships at sea.
I line each tool in quiet rows, a measured reverie.
The whistle of the kettle marks a slow, sincere beat,
And I find a temple in the routine, a place to breathe.
[Pre-Chorus]
Small hands of focus spin the wheels of now,
I keep my own pace, I learn to slow it down.
[Chorus]
This simple task, a patient guide,
Turning fear to form, I’m quietly alive.
In every steady stroke I find my ground,
A quiet pride in what I’ve found.
[Verse 2]
Windows gleam with morning glass, reflections of small grace,
I straighten lines, I smooth the edge, a gentleness in place.
The hum of machines, cadence of a thoughtful prayer,
I’m ships at anchor in a harbor of care.
[Pre-Chorus]
Breath in sync with the ticking clock,
I notice the colors in the unmapped blocks.
[Chorus]
This simple task, a patient guide,
Turning fear to form, I’m quietly alive.
In every steady stroke I find my ground,
A quiet pride in what I’ve found.
[Bridge]
If the world rushes on in storms and noise,
I cradle calm with ordinary poise.
[Chorus]
This simple task, a patient guide,
Turning fear to form, I’m quietly alive.
In every steady stroke I find my ground,
A quiet pride in what I’ve found.
[Outro]
The sink runs clear, the day proceeds in measure,
And in this small abidance, I discover my treasure.
