SATURDAY'S CHILD


Hoyt Axton - 1963


                                                                           

Yeah, some were teethed on a silver spoon
With a star hung high for a rattle
People, I was teethed like the black raccoon
As instruments of battle   

For I was born on Saturday
A bad time to plant your seed
The only thing my father said
"Another mouth to feed"  

When I was born, oh the rain fell hard
And misery piled high 'round my mama's door
The first two words that I ever cried
Were "hungry" and "more"  

For I was born on Saturday
A bad time to plant your seed
And the only thing my mama said
"Another mouth to feed"   

For I'm the brother to the black raccoon
And the kin to all things wild
The only thing God said to me
"Boy, you're Saturday's Child"   

For some were teethed on a silver spoon
With a star hung high for a rattle
People, I was teethed like the black raccoon
As instruments of battle  

For I was born on Saturday
A bad time to plant your seed
The only thing they said to me






(Transcribed by Mel Priddle - July 2013)