SNAPSHOTS 121411 - I PLAY C

James Michael Taylor

This is, actually, the instrumental version of I Play C and THEN comes SNAPSHOTS, which was written one morning at a campground between Comfort and Welfare, Texas called OLD NUMBER NINE Depot. It was a weekend songwriter retreat with Liza Gilkyson. We needed a song for a critique at that morning’s session so I woke up, looked around and described what I saw and had a new song in time for the lesson. When I got my private critique session I assured Liza that the problems I was having with the song would go away as I got familiar with the lyric and chord changes. It stands as I wrote it that morning.

SNAPSHOTS

Life’s a million snapshots
All lined up and flashing
It seems like a movie
But it’s the persistence of our vision
It all goes in circles
Hashing and rehashing
Each day it starts all over
The grand improvisation
I see them now, there on the porch
The logs unburnt and frozen
Clean linen’s and soft pillows there
On the bed left unchosen
And life is just a snapshot
A fleeting moment passing
The sun comes up
The sun goes down
Eclipsing all our fashion
We cling to our trinkets
Debris of life amassing
The flesh resists the call of Time
We, thus, outlive our passion
Guitars encased in velvet
Indifferent to our mission
Acoustic, they remain
No need for batteries or fission
Holy Moly! So philosophical and moody
Perhaps I need a nap
Holy moly! There it went
Now it’s all over
Holy moly! Honey
Come and sit here on my lap
Like you did in that snapshot
Where you dared me to be lonely
The tangled stars, the cloudy moon
The naked trees that night
The tears I cried when I found
I was your one and only
It’s the distance from the fire
It’s not the fading of the light

Holy Moly! So philosophical and moody
Perhaps I need a nap
Holy moly! There it went
Now it’s all over, Honey
Come and sit here on my lap
I see you now, there on the porch
The logs unburnt and frozen
Clean linen’s and soft pillows
On the bed we left unchosen
You see, Life’s a million snapshots
All lined up and flashing
It seems like a movie
But it’s the persistence of our vision…

(C) 2007 Royal T Music

I was spending a weekend at a songwriter’s workshop with Liza Gilkison. We were assigned to have a new song to share with our fellow songwriters and Liza on the final Sunday morning. Earlier that morning, I sat up in my bunk house bed and wrote about what saw around me… When I sang the song that morning, some cried. Eliza, at our personal critique questioned if I could actually fit all my words in. I told her, with practice, I figured I could.