1. |
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Kayaking Down the Peshtigo
I went kayaking down the Peshtigo today.
Thought it strange one could own such land where I’d play.
I’d love to shoot McClintock Rapids again,
But I can’t cuz someone owns the land where I’d stand.
Ya, Pete’s our guide. He kept us all dry…He git i de got Nick high.
Pierced in his brow, he knows what he knows well, but he doesn’t know it all.
I found a dead northern in five feet of water.
Despite the current I used my paddle to get the body.
Her body’s slimy, his belly’s white and floaty.
The river’s ripples made it look like she was swimming.
Oh, I put her on the shore, for animals eat them…An im a mals eat fish.
Those turtles snapping get to be two by a foot and a half.
It’s rarely rained here, the water level shows it.
Dad lifts over rocks to get his boat back rolling.
Today’s the last day of the tours down the river.
In early spring it’s Pete, the ice, and his sledgehammer.
Oh, I look upon the shore—All red green and yellow... De de di da death of leaves.
When Nick and I were younger we filled in our forts with these same smelling leaves.
Written 9/12-11/14 1998 ©1998 John Snell X John Snell
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2. |
Creative Abstractities
03:43
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Kayaking Down the Peshtigo
I went kayaking down the Peshtigo today.
Thought it strange one could own such land where I’d play.
I’d love to shoot McClintock Rapids again,
But I can’t cuz someone owns the land where I’d stand.
Ya, Pete’s our guide. He kept us all dry.
Pierced in his brow, he knows what he knows well, but he doesn’t know it all.
I found a dead northern in five feet of water.
Despite the current I used my paddle to get the body.
Her body’s slimy, his belly’s white and floaty.
The river’s ripples made it look like she was swimming.
Oh, I put her on the shore, for animals eat them…An im a mals eat fish.
Those turtles snapping get to be two by a foot and a half.
It’s rarely rained here, the water level shows it.
Dad lifts over rocks to get his boat back rolling.
Today’s the last day of the tours down the river.
In early spring it’s Pete, the ice, and his sledgehammer.
Oh, I look upon the shore—All red green and yellow... De de di da death of leaves.
When Nick and I were younger we filled in our forts with these same smelling leaves.
Written 9/12-11/14 1998 ©1998 John Snell X John Snell
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3. |
Queen of the May
02:59
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Queen of the May
Words and Music by John Snell X
Forty years pre-today, to celebrate the onslaught of summer, mothers sewed at home four weeks and a day ‘cause my mother was Queen of the May.
Chorus: But I’ll be there some day, yea I’ll be there someday. I’ll be there someday, my mother’s Queen of the May.
The Queen and her court preside, as the elephants open their eyes. Uncle John takes tickets for the merry-go-round as my mother’s crowned Queen of the May.
Chorus.
Oh look, the entertainment’s begun! See the flowers and costumes and ribbons? Begin dances ‘round May poles and kids start your games as my mother’s crowned Queen of the May.
Chorus.
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4. |
Kosovo
04:31
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Kosovo
(“The First Casualty of War is the Truth”)
Loosen the mind. Listen the song like a balloon untied.
Less heavy; Less weighted.
Like in the Stream of Unconsciousness record by Ryan Smith:
“Judas Kiss”; “Skid Viscous”.
Now turn your thoughts to war
And those shot and killed in Kosovo.
Beaten. Robbed. House burned. Forced run or die or die from run.
Refugee, glad you fleed.
“My brother’s throat was cut for accent while answering the door.”
Stories told thousand fold.
My thoughts are stuck on war
And those shot and killed in Kosovo.
A grand slam by the bat of genocide.
Frustrate/Too late NATO?
All Yugoslavians now worse off than before NATO
Tried saving by killing.
Milosevic has gained support; Clinton won’t dare abort.
Look stronger. Bomb harder.
My thoughts are stuck on war.
Is the aim of the strike peace or control?!?
Catastrophic consequences abound
From bombing civil infrastructure down.
Nuclear Arms rumored re-aimed
At pro-NATO cities throughout the world.
Russia has threatened keep the peace.
Ground troops may onset WWIII.
Loosen the mind. Listen the song like a balloon untied.
Less heavy; Less weighted.
(Written 3/26-4/19/99. c1999 John Snell X)
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5. |
All the Muse
04:04
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Body sleeps, the mind’s awake.
Real-life pets adorn the stage.
All the music is under your bed;
Everything’s under your bed.
White kitten, purple paws, green toes,
Lies with lime-green calico.
Joyful wet face licked by sand.
Alone with kittens in each hand.
All the music is under your bed;
Everything’s under your bed.
Black line painted on the floor
Keeps them from the furniture.
Rooms have moved, the line has stayed.
The cats now kept from the boy who played...
My Mother wrote this to comfort me--
Sang to me beautifully.
Feelings in dreams real as time.
I woke up singing the next line.
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6. |
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Area 51 (And The Alien Highway)
Listen to the rumors.
There’s talk in newspapers.
Think about the galaxy.
Think about the galaxy.
I’ll wonder what went wrong until I die.
Pitter-patter—rain to mettle.
Blurred red sign shakes—reflects your brights.
There’s a diamond above you,
A silent diamond above you.
I’ll wonder what went wrong until I die.
I’ll wonder what went wrong until I die.
Take 375—the Alien Highway—
Bound toward the base they’re boiling in.
Thumb says they’re in Hanger Eighteen.
Dissection in Hanger Eighteen.
I’ll wonder what went wrong until I die.
I’ll wonder what went wrong until I die.
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7. |
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The Intellectual Babbler Marco
The intellectual Babbler Marco with the selectively permeable brain...
Ears that have seen and has eyes that have heard genres never to be seen again.
Intellectual Babbler Marco.
Speaks of normal relativity and his viewed outback location in worlds.
Directing distractions abstractions takes actions in filling voids precariously.
Intellectual Babbler Marco.
Intellectual Babbler Marco.
The intellectual Babbler Marco has all history’s events in mind.
Applibical or not applibical has meaning only at points in time.
Intellectual Babbler Marco.
©1999 John Snell X www.JohnSnellX.com
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8. |
Sail on Future
06:21
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Sail on Future
Take some time to think about the reason you’re here.
Take that time and recall some memories
‘Cause they’re all you take with to the grave.
Well you’re living like an American; you’re shooting here and there.
Are you shooting in the direction that your maker sent you to
Sail… on future.
I think I’ll just wait right here.
After all I’ve lost sense of direction.
I’m sure I was aimed, but I’m lost in this world that was made.
Take some time to peel the burdens (from your skin)
That fell from the sky.
And take those peelings ‘tween palm and palm,
And throw ‘em to whom you sing
Sail on Future.
I think I’ll just stay right here.
After all, I’ve lost sense of direction.
See I’m sure I was aimed but I’m lost in this world that was made.
I’m lost in the shadows of past generations
Who built up our world too high.
Sailing I’m sailing on a frictionless future
That’s sucking my life from my eyes.
© 2000 John Snell X JohnSnellx@Juno.com
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9. |
In Human Scale
16:07
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My relative, my relative time.
My relative, my relative time.
The bath is clogged.
The faucet is stuck on.
Six Billion can’t pull the plug.
My relative, my relative time.
Our world in human scale is left behind
For a frustrated big being to find:
Pick up a car and throw it to our Mars. Ask,
“Where are all the people who fit in these tiny cars?
“I think you sat on the worship place of this little town.
“I wonder if that steeple was originally brown.
“Here, take this guitar. It works well to clean your ears.
“But I can’t pluck this string, or that! Oh, where are these tiny craftsman?
“Read up information, laugh I, I need Magna-glasses!
“People living here must have had eyes sharp as molasses.”
My relative, my relative time.
My relative, my relative time.
The bath is clogged with people.
the faucet is stuck on, people.
Six Billion people can’t pull the plug.
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John Snell the Tenth Minneapolis, Minnesota
Minnesota native John Snell (the Tenth) started writing music when he was just fifteen, but his musical admiration was apparent at an even earlier age. John's mother can attest to him dancing to the hum of the vacuum cleaner while he was still in cloth diapers. Since these early days JS10 has written over 200 songs, grown out of diapers, and released more than 6 full-length albums (& 1 unreleased) ... more
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