(Brian Woodbury/Elma Mayer)
Spanish translation Bernardo Palombo

When I was just seven,
at Grandma’s Thanksgiving,
she brought out the biscuits.
I grabbed three or four.

But Grandma said, “Honey,
we don’t take so many.
We share what we’re given.
There’ll be plenty more”

So pass down the gravy
and pass down the dressing.
Around this big circle,
we pass down this blessing.
From the Indian to the pilgrim
from the parents to the children,
we give thanks and we pass it down
Pass it down, pass it down.

Now I find myself traveling
to another Thanksgiving.
Over rivers, through seasons,
comin’ back to this day.

Through the good breaks and the heartaches,
and each turn this life takes.
Though Grandma’s not with me,
she shows me the way.

To pass down the gravy
and pass down the dressing.
Around this big circle,
we pass down this blessing.
From the Indian to the pilgrim
from the parents to the children,
we give thanks and we pass it down
Pass it down, pass it down.

Through the troubles
that may face us.
For the good earth
that will grace us.

Now, old friends and new neighbors,
we sit down together
to Thanksgiving dinner
at long tables or small.

Every town, every county,
each home shares this bounty.
However we came here,
there’s room for us all.

Pasen los frijoles
Pasen la canción
Que en esta gran ronda
va la bendición.
De los padres a sus niños
del nativo al peregrino.

We give thanks and we pass it down.
Pass it down, pass it down.