The Kitchen Table

This track comes from Aaron Stransky's core identity — Folly Beach roots, 843 area code, the raw unfiltered version. It tackles Coming home and sitting at the kitchen table where it all started. The same table where he did homework, where he made the decision to join the Navy, where he plans his next move. The table as witness to a life.. The lyrics get specific — "Because I always did my best work in the kitchen light" — because personal tracks on Majik's are personal for real, not performatively. The americana production matches the energy of the confession. It hits intimate and emotional, in that order. Every personal track in the catalogue comes from a real moment, a real feeling, a real person. This one is no exception.

[verse 1] There's a scratch on the left side from when I was thirteen Sliding a model battleship through a cafeteria dream There's a coffee ring from the morning I decided to enlist Mom's fingers wrapped around her mug, her smile hiding the twist In her stomach, watching her boy become a man too fast At this kitchen table where the future met the past [verse 2] I've sat at conference tables, sat at desks that cost too much Sat in boardrooms where the handshakes had a certain kind of touch That said you don't belong here, and maybe they were right Because I always did my best work in the kitchen light Laptop where the placemats go, code where dinner was Building Magic Unicorn because the kitchen table does What no office ever could — it keeps me honest, keeps me real Four legs of solid wood that know exactly how I feel [chorus] The kitchen table knows the truth Every plan I've made, every bruise of youth It held my elbows when I couldn't hold my head It heard the things I should've, could've, would've said The kitchen table, worn and scarred and true Is the only boardroom where I'm fully through No pretending, no performing, just the grain Of wood that soaked up every joy and pain [bridge] If this table could talk it would tell you everything About a boy who dreamed too big and a man who learned to swing For fences that were further than his arms should ever reach From the kitchen table to the CTO of Folly Beach [verse 3] So when I come home now, first thing that I do Is pull the chair out, sit right down, and let the table through The armor and the titles and the everything I've built And just be Aaron for a moment, coffee on the quilt That mom laid down to cover up the scratches years ago The kitchen table knows me better than the world will ever know [outro] Pull up a chair Sit down Tell me everything The kitchen table's listening