[Intro — low spoken rap] Yeah… Back when the morning had a different sound, Before every second had a screen around… [Verse 1] Kettle on the stove, hear it sing at dawn, Sun through the window, another day born, Broom on the floor, boots by the door, Same little routine that we lived before. Brown paper bread, wrapped up tight, Water through the garden in the early light, Clock on the wall, tickin' like a drum, Years kept moving but we didn't run. [Hook — rhythmic rap] No rush, no chase, no screen in my face, Just hands doing work at a natural pace, Old days, slow days, nothing to prove, Life wasn't loud but it still had groove. [Verse 2] Noon at the table, everybody talk, Bread and soup while the stories walked, One small room but the world felt near, Every voice mattered, every word was clear. Didn't need much, didn't need more, Didn't measure life by what you could score, Simple little things had a weight of their own, A full table felt like coming home. [Beat Switch — darker electronic groove] Yeah… Then the daylight dropped… And the whole street changed… [Verse 3] Lamp came on when the evening fell, Radio low with a story to tell, Footsteps echo down an empty street, Day folded up with a tired heartbeat. No endless scroll, no glowing screen, No chasing something that you'd never seen, Weathered hands, old shoes, worn-out plans, Life was written in the work of your hands. [Hook — harder rap delivery] No rush, no chase, no screen in my face, Just hands doing work at a natural pace, Old days, slow days, nothing to prove, Life wasn't loud but it still had groove. [Outro — whispered rap] Funny how the smallest things stay… A kettle… A clock… A loaf of bread… A voice at the table… That's where the old days lived.
