Lyric

Morning settles softly on the wooden floor

Your blue cup waits beside the open door

I fold the quiet into something small

And leave a little room for it all

Stay awhile, let the day move slow

There is nowhere else we need to go

Your hand finds mine beneath the table's shade

And every hurried thought begins to fade

The old fan turns above the kitchen chair

A ribbon of warm sunlight finds your hair

We trade small stories, half-said and true

The kind of peace I only find with you

Stay awhile, let the day move slow

There is nowhere else we need to go

Your hand finds mine beneath the table's shade

And every hurried thought begins to fade

If the afternoon should change its mind

We'll take the long way, leaving clocks behind

No grand promise, nothing we must prove

Just this gentle hour, just this easy room

Stay awhile, let the day move slow

There is nowhere else we need to go

Your hand finds mine beneath the table's shade

And every hurried thought begins to fade

Morning settles softly on the wooden floor

Your blue cup waits beside the open door