SUNDAY PLATE, SATURDAY BASS — DJ DR LOVE [Intro — deep spoken] Before you come through that door... Who made the potato salad? All right. Now we can proceed. 007 FM. [Hook] Sunday plate, Saturday bass, Whole house smiling, better find you a place. Foil on the counter, sweet tea in the glass, Somebody in the kitchen saying, "Don't walk past!" Sunday plate, Saturday bass, Old folks laughing while the young folks dance. Dr Love got the speakers turned low, Till somebody yell, "That's my song!" Then here we go. [Verse 1] Doorbell ringing, got a cousin out front, Carrying three bags, said, "I only brought a little something." Auntie in the kitchen with a towel on her shoulder, Told a grown man, "Boy, bring that chair closer." Kids got a game going down the hall, Somebody saved a seat with a purse and a shawl. Uncle telling stories with the details changed, We let him finish anyway, that's part of the day. Picture on the mantel of the ones we miss, I touch the frame a second, then get back to this. Hear that same old laughter from another room, For a little while it feels like they are laughing too. [Scratch Break] Pass-pass that plate! Turn-turn that bass! Dr Love in the place! [Verse 2] Somebody found a photo from way back when, Now everybody leaning in to look again. "Look at them shoes! Look at your hair!" I said, "I was the smoothest thing standing there." Got a little debate over who could dance, Cousin pulled her sleeves up, said, "Give me a chance." One step sideways, little shoulder roll, Now the kitchen got a line like a traveling show. Baby with a spoon keeping time on a tray, Granddad tapping one foot, trying not to play. Said he wasn't getting up, then the bass came through, Now we moving all the chairs to give him some room. [Hook] Sunday plate, Saturday bass, Whole house smiling, better find you a place. Foil on the counter, sweet tea in the glass, Somebody in the kitchen saying, "Don't walk past!" Sunday plate, Saturday bass, Old folks laughing while the young folks dance. Dr Love got the speakers turned low, Till somebody yell, "That's my song!" Then here we go. [Bridge — spoken] Take a plate home. No, a real plate. You know that's not enough. Put something else on there. [Verse 3] Evening settling, folks gathering their things, Still three conversations by the door screen. Goodbye takes an hour when the company right, Somebody left a sweater, they'll be back tonight. Kitchen finally quiet, got a sink full of proof, Few crumbs on the table, little joy through the roof. I wrap up the leftovers, hum that hook again, Already looking forward to the next weekend. [Final Hook] Sunday plate, Saturday bass, Whole house smiling, better find you a place. Dr Love got the speakers turned low, Till somebody yell, "That's my song!" Then here we go. [Outro — deep spoken] Who took my good container? Write your name on that lid. 007 FM. Family business.
