The long tablePull a chair, there's always moreMâm cơm đầy, the bowl is full, that's what the work was forThe long tableThree generations and the same old jokesThe laughter is the seasoning, the love is in the smokeGrandpa tells the buffalo story we could all reciteAuntie fights the bill, it's the same fight every nightThe little ones asleep on a pile of winter coatsThis is the wealth that never shows up in the notesHe sets one extra bowl and won't say who it's forWe learned to leave grandma's chair the way it was beforeThe long tablePull a chair, there's always moreMâm cơm đầy, the bowl is full, that's what the work was forThe long tableTết comes around and the whole map folds back inEverybody travels to the table they beginThe peach blossom, the red envelope, the toastThe empty chairs we set for the ones we miss the mostWe eat too much, we stay too long, we say we have to goThen we sit back down for one more hour, 'cause we love each other soThis year grandpa's gone, and I'm the one who tells it nowThe buffalo, the same words, his pauses, I learned howSo set another place and pull the benches inThe long table is forever, it just changes who sits inThe long tablePull a chair, there's always moreMâm cơm đầy, the bowl is full, that's what the work was forThe long table
