Track 2 of the album Quiet Thunder · 2018
Pension Day Sunday Soul
by Nina Vale
“This is for my mama and every woman who cleaned floors so someone else could dream. I kept the band pushing and my voice steady.”
soul · anthem soul · gospel soul · 3:01
Lyrics
Mama worked till her hands were sore Cleaned up other people's floors Now the papers say she's done Retirement has begun She put her apron on the hook Poured her coffee, took a look At a morning that she owns All the quiet that she's known Sing it, Mama, you've earned your rest Sunday every day, you're blessed Put your feet up, let the good times roll Fifty years has paid its toll Sing it, Mama, you've earned your rest Hat on straight and her Sunday shoes Walking down with the morning news Neighbours clapping from the gate Better late than never, great Every dawn she rose for us Never once did she fuss Now it's time to take her turn Let the rest of the world learn Sing it, Mama, you've earned your rest Sunday every day, you're blessed Put your feet up, let the good times roll Fifty years has paid its toll Sing it, Mama, you've earned your rest You've earned your rest Oh, you've earned your rest