Saturday comes too slow
And goes too fast,
A single day
Up against six others.
But if on Saturday I go slow
Then I can rest, and pause,
And laugh, and play,
And dance, and sing,
And go here, and there,
And talk, and hear,
And learn, and share,
So the day is long,
And full, and plentiful,
And so much more
Is lived in the slow,
Than in all the other six
Fast days of work and toil.
Saturday comes too slow
And goes too fast,
But it’s the day for slow
And not going fast,
Which is why my Saturday
Will always last.