[Verse] Sunlight filters through the lace, Dust motes dance in their quiet place, Momma hums that old gospel tune, In the kitchen, on a Sunday afternoon. [Pre-Chorus] The clock ticks slow, but time stands still, Her voice so soft, it calms and fills. [Chorus] In Momma’s kitchen gospel, where the heartbeats rise, Sweet words like honey, wrapped in lullabies. Every chord’s a memory, every note a prayer, Sunday afternoons, find me waiting there. [Verse] Wooden table worn with years, Echoes laughter, pain, and tears, Her hands fold prayers in the air, A sacred space where love’s laid bare. [Pre-Chorus] The world outside may rush and fade, But here’s the peace that she has made. [Chorus] In Momma’s kitchen gospel, where the heartbeats rise, Sweet words like honey, wrapped in lullabies. Every chord’s a memory, every note a prayer, Sunday afternoons, find me waiting there. [Bridge] And when the daylight’s fading low, Her song’s the only thing I know, A gentle voice that leads me through, The storms and shadows, back to you. [Chorus] In Momma’s kitchen gospel, where the heartbeats rise, Sweet words like honey, wrapped in lullabies. Every chord’s a memory, every note a prayer, Sunday afternoons, find me waiting there. [Outro] Find me waiting there, In Momma’s kitchen gospel air.