Acadian Saturday Night

Uncle Emile, he’s gone now nearly ten days
He tole his wife’s he’s gone for the fishing
But in the waters off St. 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 go 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
'Til 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