Snowman
Snowman
by Jed Moffitt
If you are lucky in life, you have the chance to chase something big. The chase can take you far afield, perhaps even to the roof of the world in the mystical Himalayas, where there are said to be monsters. We think we know what we are chasing. We feel like the hunter. But sometimes, the hunter becomes the hunted, or as a friend once suggested: life is a feast. Sometimes you have a seat at the table…and sometimes you’re the meal. We all eventually face our own version of the great white whale. My good friend, Stan Snow, uses a big gun in this tune with his 335 guitar slashing through the song like the proverbial hot knife through butter, very reminiscent of the katana-edged renderings of the great Larry Carlton on the epic Steely Dan recordings.
I have heard we see the world not as it is, but as we are.
I have heard we see the world not as it is, but as we are.
I’m just fumbling along, working every day
It is never black and white, just another shade of grey
The world as it is, is as it is, and it is blowing me away.
I have heard there is a snowman in the mountains of Tibet.
A monster from my nightmare, a beast I’ve never met.
He keeps on running faster, the closer that I get
They swear that he is up there but I haven’t seen him yet
Or maybe he’s a memory that I sooner would forget.
Every night I look up at the moon and I stare.
And every morning I look down at the ground
And I notice that I have not gone anywhere
And I notice that I seem very similar to me
Except the part that fell away and slipped into the sea
The thing that I am, and the thing I used to be.
(Guitar Solo)
I have heard there is a heaven where all the pretty angels play.
I have heard there is a heaven where all the pretty angels play.
Some say they’re only monsters making angels in the snow,
I suppose that could be true cause you never really know,
In the meantime I am mingling with the mermaids and the minions,
The prophets and the pundits, and the second-hand opinions spun by Presidents from hell and their disgraceful dispositions in the big show
Every night, I take sight, of the light in your hair.
And I consider the fiasco blowing up all around,
All the pieces on the ground and the sounds in the air
Of the karma that I’ve wrought that is traceable to me,
And of the fragments of the thought that so insidiously, divide
The thing that I am, from the thing I used to be
The thing I used to be
The thing I used to be
Jed Moffitt: Vocals and keyboards
Stan Snow: Guitars and backing vocals
Mia Boyle: Backing vocals
Mike Stone: Drums
Chris Symer: Bass
Eric Patterson: Horn arrangements and tenor sax
Jim Sisko: Trumpet
Larry Mahlis: Congas and percussion
Don Gunn: Mixing
Ed Brooks: Mastering
Copyright 2019 Jed Moffitt BMI, All rights reserved.