You lean back in the wooden seat
Where the porch and the garden meet
The paint is peeling off the rail
The morning air is thin and pale
You watch the kitchen window glow
The coffee drips a little slow
The linoleum is worn and gray
Just like the start of every day
Silver kettle steam in the air
A quiet kind of morning prayer
Rocking slow in a steady beat
While the summer morning feels the heat
You see the grease on a frying pan
Doing the best that a cook can
The toast is burnt on the left side
Nowhere for a hungry man to hide
Silver kettle steam in the air
A quiet kind of morning prayer
Rocking slow in a steady beat
While the summer morning feels the heat
The clock on the wall has a heavy tick
The air in the hallway is getting thick
You smile at the mess on the counter top
Waiting for the ticking clock to stop
The regulars come for their usual brew
They know the menu and the menu's true
A slice of cherry pie and a heavy pour
As the wind kicks a leaf across the floor
You check the time on your rusted wrist
A little peace that you almost missed
The steam is rising in a steady white
Before the world turns back into the light
Silver kettle steam in the air
A quiet kind of morning prayer
Rocking slow in a steady beat
While the summer morning feels the heat
Just a little more steam.
Keep on rocking.
Stay a while.
