[Verse] In the corner where the tools lean low, Dust motes dance in fading glow, Strings hum quiet under calloused hands, This garage becomes a quiet land. [Pre-Chorus] Fingers trace the frets like old maps, Whispers soft as the night wraps, [Chorus] Play the chords, feel the sound, Hold it close, it's how we're bound. Simple shapes, in the dark, Echoes lingering, a fading spark. [Verse] Notes spill out like scattered dreams, Broken light in silver streams, Lessons taught without a word, In every chord, a voice unheard. [Pre-Chorus] Fingers trace the frets like old maps, Whispers soft as the night wraps, [Chorus] Play the chords, feel the sound, Hold it close, it's how we're bound. Simple shapes, in the dark, Echoes lingering, a fading spark. [Bridge] And when the silence falls between, You’ll find the music in the in-between. A father’s voice, soft and low— Guiding where the shadows go. [Chorus] Play the chords, feel the sound, Hold it close, it's how we're bound. Simple shapes, in the dark, Echoes lingering, a fading spark. [Outro] In the clutter, time stands still, Every note, a gentle thrill, Play the chords, feel the sound, In this garage, where we're found.