Kitchen Saturday Night - Chris Burke

http://chrisburke.me/

Verse 1
I hail from down Cape Breton way, my daddy worked the sea
He told me back when I was young this life is proud and free
There’s no skyscrapers dirt or smog like up along this land
Just ocean air and lassies fair, the Lord’s creation grand

Verse 2
My momma’s kitchen seemed as grand as three big football fields
At weeks long end the folks would come to play the jigs and reels
Guitars and fiddles all around, the dancers were a sight
They sang the tunes and drank the rum, on
a Kitchen Saturday Night

Chorus
My daddy rosined up the bow while mother passed the jars
Old Uncle Archie strummed along his three chord repertoire
The neighbors came from all around, a Maritime delight
I thank the Lord I seen it all, on a Kitchen Saturday Night

Verse 3
We folk down in the Maritimes know hard work is the way
The briny sea and farmers fields, the mines so deep and grey
But all hard work without some play is not the way to be
When weekend comes it’s time for fun for folk down by the sea

Verse 4
I grew up proud, I grew up strong, my daddy raised no fool
Each Sunday we all walked to church, t’was mothers strictest rule
We Maritimers know what’s wrong and specially what’s right
Work hard all week but bring your strings
To the Kitchen Saturday Night