[Verse] Sunlight drapes the window frame, Dusty beams like whispered names, Grandfather’s hands, they guide the strings, Old kitchen chair, the song he brings. [Pre-Chorus] Creaking wood and tender smiles, Lessons wrapped in simple styles, Fingers learn what words can’t say, In that quiet, warm cafe. [Chorus] Hold the chord, let it ring, Hear the stories that we sing, In the creak of that old chair, Memories float in the air. Every note, a worn-out thread, Tied to all the things he said, Playing on through time and space, Grandfather’s gentle, steady grace. [Verse] Shadowed lines upon his face, Every mark a time and place, Strumming soft through dust and light, Teaching me to hold on tight. [Pre-Chorus] Words may fade, but songs remain, Echoes caught in windowpane, In that kitchen’s humble glow, Roots of love begin to grow. [Chorus] Hold the chord, let it ring, Hear the stories that we sing, In the creak of that old chair, Memories float in the air. Every note, a worn-out thread, Tied to all the things he said, Playing on through time and space, Grandfather’s gentle, steady grace. [Bridge] Dust and time, they swirl and spin, But in his song, I find within, A quiet strength, a guiding hand, A melody to understand. [Chorus] Hold the chord, let it ring, Hear the stories that we sing, In the creak of that old chair, Memories float in the air. Every note, a worn-out thread, Tied to all the things he said, Playing on through time and space, Grandfather’s gentle, steady grace. [Outro] Sunlight fades, but still I hear, That creak of love, forever clear.