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Uncle Emile he's gone now nearly ten days,
He tol' his wife's he's gone for the fishing,
But in the waters off Saint-Pierre and Miquelon Isles,
The fish come in bottles of gold;
If the Anne-Marie floats and the mounties stay blind,
He'll be back before the moon is rising,
With a very fine catch all safe in the hold,
Thirty cases of Trinidad Light
For Acadian Saturday night.
Emmeline Comeau works the general store,
Papa says she's good for the custom,
She's got eyes like fire and hair past her shoulders,
As shiny black as ant'racite coal;
You can see her Sunday morning on the St Phillipe road,
Her mother close behind like a dragon,
But her mama doesn't know what she does behind the hall,
Away from the music and lights
On Acadian Saturday night.
Oh - Don't the fiddles make you roll,
Till your heart she pounds like a hammer;
There's a fat lady beating her piano like a drum,
And everybody's higher than a kite
On Acadian Saturday night.
Granpa says it was better in his day,
The mounties stayed away from the parties,
And he didn't mind a fight when the spirits got high,
(You could always throw them out in the snow)
And the rum was better and it came in bigger bottles,
And the revenue cutters were slow,
Still, the old Anne-Marie has wings on the water,
And there's nothing like Trinidad Light
On Acadian Saturday night.
Oh - Don't the fiddles make you roll,
Till your heart she pounds like a hammer;
There's a fat lady beating her piano like a drum,
And everybody's higher than a kite
On Acadian Saturday night.
Oh - Don't the fiddles make you roll,
Till your heart she pounds like a hammer;
There's a fat lady beating her piano like a drum,
And everybody's higher than a kite
On Acadian Saturday night.
Note: St, Pierre and Miquelon are islands of French possession, not Canadian, just off the southern coast of Newfoundland.
