Sing me a song of a Saturday

Oh it's 9 o'clock on a Saturday,  

the regular crowd shuffled in (3 hours ago).

There's a four month old sitting next to me,

making drool all over her fingers and chin.

She says, "Mom can you sing me a lullaby

I'm not really sure why you look so dour

But it's soft and it's sweet

And I'm pretty sure you sang it last night

When I screamed my head off for an hour."

Sing us a song, of a Saturday

Sing us a song this morning

Well, we're all in the mood for exactly what we want (right now),

Even if you would rather be snoring.

Now Elijah, on the floor, is our middle son,

He's sweet and rather carefree

He's quick with a joke, but he's not sure he's woke (yet)

And there's someplace that he'd rather be

He says, "Dad, I believe this is killing me."

As the tears threatened to overflow

"Well, I'm sure I'd be happier

If I could be where(ever) my brother is, pronto

Now Samuel is our oldest opinionist

He's always got time for a firm thought

And he's thrusting a book, pleading for breakfast to cook,

And if we don't move soon, will soon be distraught

And the whole crew is practicing politics

As mom and dad slowly stumble and groan

Yes, they're sharing a life we call (beautiful) chaos

But it's better than being alone.

Sing us a song, of a Saturday

Sing us a song this morning

Well, we're all in the mood for exactly what we want (right now),

Even if you would rather be snoring.

It's a pretty typical crowd for a Saturday

And we give each other a smile

'Cause we know that it's us they've been coming to see

To remind us about love for a while

And to the neighbors it sounds like a carnival,

And to us, it smells like (more than one) poopy bum

And they sit on our bed and put laughter in our hearts,

And say, "Mom, when is breakfast going to come"

Sing us a song, of a Saturday

Sing us a song this morning

Well, we're all in the mood for exactly what we've got,

Even if it means we can't be snoring.