[Verse] Washing bowls in the quiet after the storm, Fingers tracing cracks in the porcelain worn. Each clink a memory, each scrape a name, A love built on patience, not fire or fame. [Pre-Chorus] The bills stack high like winter’s last breath, But I’m still singing through the debt, through the death… [Chorus] Oh, the rhythm of dishes, the hum of the light, The love that’s not loud but still feels right. Through the cracks in the wall and the weight on my chest, I’m still here—still singing—still yours, still blessed. Yeah, the rhythm of dishes, the love that won’t quit, A quiet devotion, that keeps me afloat, that keeps me in it. [Verse] The kettle sings, the water turns warm, A ritual written with no words to storm. You left a note by the sink in the dark, Just “I’m here,” and I didn’t fall apart. [Pre-Chorus] The bills stay close like a ghost in the frame, But I’m still here—still singing, still your name. [Chorus] Oh, the rhythm of dishes, the hum of the light, The love that’s not loud but still feels right. Through the cracks in the wall and the weight on my chest, I’m still here—still singing—still yours, still blessed. Yeah, the rhythm of dishes, the love that won’t quit, A quiet devotion, that keeps me afloat, that keeps me in it. [Bridge] I don’t need a crown, just your hand in mine, A kitchen that’s lived, where we both belong. Every dish, every bill, every breath I’ve shared— Is not a chore, but a prayer, a thread, a care. [Chorus] Oh, the rhythm of dishes, the hum of the light, The love that’s not loud but still feels right. Through the cracks in the wall and the weight on my chest, I’m still here—still singing—still yours, still blessed. Yeah, the rhythm of dishes, the love that won’t quit, A quiet devotion, that keeps me afloat, that keeps me in it. [Outro] Still singing… Still yours… Still here… Still… here…