[Verse 1]
After Sabbath services, we’d head on down to eat,
Swap a little conversation, save our friends a seat.
My family numbered six; we settled in a row,
I told ’em where to find us—but nobody showed!
[Verse 2]
Next week, same restaurant, same six sitting there,
Plenty on the menu, plenty empty chairs.
I asked, “Where’s everybody?” They finally let me know:
“More than seven need a minister wherever members go!”
[Chorus]
Pass the gravy—call the minister!
Someone’s coming through the door!
Six of us and two more friends—
We need supervision for!
Seven can enjoy their supper,
Eight needs someone keeping score.
Pass the gravy—call the minister!
There’s a head count at the door!
[Verse 3]
I asked the minister about it; he said the rule was true.
I said, “We’re ordering dinner—what’d you think we’d do?”
We weren’t planning revolution, just a little bite to eat,
But apparently rebellion starts when friends pull up a seat!
[Chorus]
Pass the gravy—call the minister!
Someone’s coming through the door!
Six of us and two more friends—
We need supervision for!
Seven can enjoy their supper,
Eight needs someone keeping score.
Pass the gravy—call the minister!
There’s a head count at the door!
[Bridge]
The waitress asked, “How many?”
I said, “That’s hard to say.
One more friend is fine—
But two? We’d better pray!
Do you have a table handy
For a minister tonight?
We’ve got eight hungry people,
And we’d like to take a bite!”
[Outro]
That’s my PCG dinner story,
And the lesson still holds true:
When fellowship comes with a head count,
There’s more being served than stew!
[Spoken, amused]
“Table for eight?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Good. Does it come with a minister?”
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