We live in a drive-thru generation. About the closest thing to a home cooked meal is a greasy meat and three. We hardly ever gather at our table. Life’s too busy to be a family, now, if you ask me. The whole world needs a kitchen, like the one we lived in. The smell of supper cooking on the stove, food for the soul and a taste of mama’s wisdom. Tired daddy dragging through a screen door. Hugs and kisses and a thanking the Lord, they don’t make ‘em like that anymore. The whole world needs a kitchen. It’s where we sat and did our homework. And that bottom stair was a barber’s chair when mama’s lowered our ears. It’s where we watched mom and daddy dancing to The Rolling Stones and old George Jones. Man, I swear… The whole world needs a kitchen, like the one we lived in. The smell of supper cooking on the stove, food for the soul and a taste of mama’s wisdom. Tired daddy dragging through a screen door. Hugs and kisses and a thanking the Lord, they don’t make ‘em like that anymore. The whole world needs a kitchen. It’s where we talked about our problems. And it’s where we solved ‘em. Lord, knows we still got ‘em. The whole world needs a kitchen, like the one we lived in. The smell of supper cooking on the stove, food for the soul and a taste of mama’s wisdom. Tired daddy dragging through a screen door. Hugs and kisses and a thanking the Lord, they don’t make ‘em like that anymore. The whole world needs a kitchen. The whole world needs a kitchen.