Текст песни
[Куплет 1] At marva’s gate, the folding tables lean A checked cloth flutters in the evening breeze You bring the pot with the blue enamel lid I bring the lime cake grandma used to hid— Away for sunday, wrapped in waxed paper And every neighbor comes a little later [Припев] Pass it round, make a place, pull a chair to the side Every plate has a tale, every tune has a tide From the first spoonful shared to the last song begun We belong to each other beneath the low sun [Куплет 2] Mr. james tells how he learned that pepper stew From a cousin who crossed on a boat painted blue Nia’s sweet bread carries her mother’s refrain And the children keep time on the porch in the rain Though the clouds drift off and the small lamps appear There’s room at the table, there’s room for you here [Припев] Pass it round, make a place, pull a chair to the side Every plate has a tale, every tune has a tide From the first spoonful shared to the last song begun We belong to each other beneath the low sun [Бридж] One old story, one new melody A borrowed bowl comes back empty Names and recipes travel the street And the quietest heart finds a place in the beat [Final chorus] Pass it round, make a place, pull a chair to the side Every plate has a tale, every tune has a tide When the last gold slips away and the evening is done We’ll remember this table, and the warmth we made one [Аутро] Save a little for tomorrow Leave a chair beneath the tree If you’ve got a story to carry There’s a place here, come and see
