You don t just say grace Before you dig in You stand and dance and sway Around the kitchen And feast your eyes, astounded by What you ve been given Before you even Sit down In Bountiful And when you allemande With the pans and the cupboards You lapse into a trance And dance like a lover Till dinner time has slipped your mind And you can t recover Like a drunkard Stumbling around In Bountiful And when you fold your hands You laugh Because the words escape you So when you pray You shut your mouth In Bountiful The harvest moon is high In late September And life s in great supply Of the sweet and the tender But it s the whole ordeal before the meal You will remember If you ever Make it down To Bountiful