[Verse] The moon tilts low on the windowpane, Silent steam from a pot that’s gone cold. Dust on the counter, calm in the flame, A bowl holds breath, the rising gold. [Pre-Chorus] No rush, no name, no need to speak— Just warmth where time forgets its clock. [Chorus] Oh, rise slow, rise soft, rise where you’re known, A dream in flour, half-moon and bone. Rise slow, rise soft, rise where you’re home, In the kitchen’s hush, all things are grown. [Verse] A thread of light on the floor like lace, Dough swells like a sigh in the dark. No hand to shape, no hand to trace— It breathes on its own, in its own mark. [Pre-Chorus] No need to wait, no need to fear, The world outside has disappeared. [Chorus] Oh, rise slow, rise soft, rise where you’re known, A dream in flour, half-moon and bone. Rise slow, rise soft, rise where you’re home, In the kitchen’s hush, all things are grown. [Bridge] The silence hums a low refrain, A quiet pulse through wall and pane. The dough remembers what the world forgot— To simply be, and gently what. [Chorus] Oh, rise slow, rise soft, rise where you’re known, A dream in flour, half-moon and bone. Rise slow, rise soft, rise where you’re home, In the kitchen’s hush, all things are grown. [Outro] Rise slow, rise soft, rise… (softly) …where you’re known.