Joe L. Snaggs

Joe L. Snaggs

BandAmericanaSinger/Songwriter

My songs are part city and part country. My sound is a cross between the lyricism of Leonard Cohen and the soul of Townes Van Zandt. Some songs tell stories; others reach out to the listener like poems.

Biography

I grew up in College Station, TX in the 80's and was early obsessed with punk and alternative music. I also loved the music of the 60's and often felt I'd been born in the wrong generation. Now I just think a good song is a good song.

Lyrics

Wilderness

Written By: Joe L. Snaggs

Wilderness
The moon is a promise
the sky can’t keep;
I am nobody
when I am asleep.
But the wilderness is waiting
for a stumbling little boy.
To sleep, perchance to dream
is a wasteful little ploy—
Coy and in a coffin
like some wasted little boy.

The room swims with promise,
but I can’t keep
The sun off my body
long enough to sleep.
And the wilderness is waiting
for a stumbling little boy.
To sleep, perchance to dream
is a wasteful little ploy—
Coy and in a coffin,
like some wasted little boy.

Mountain laurel and porcupine,
The flora and fauna of compromise.
A sweet subject to quarrel
over drinks down at the still.
The sky drinks up the promise while the moon foots the bill.

The sun is a promise
I can’t keep;
The moon is a body
left to dream and sleep.
But the wilderness is waiting
for a stumbling little boy.
To sleep, perchance to dream
is a wasteful little ploy—
Coy and in a coffin
like some wasted little boy.

But the wilderness is waiting for a stumbling little boy.
To sleep, perchance to dream is a wasteful little ploy—
Coy and in a coffin like some wasted little boy.

Coal-Black Rain

Written By: Joe L. Snaggs

Coal-black Rain

Coal-black rain coming down
Coal-black rain coming down
Everybody out there swimming for miles around
And that coal-black rain coming down

Ice-hard wind blowing in
Ice-hard wind blowing in
Everybody up there waving like flags in the wind
And that ice-hard wind blowing in

I can’t take my eyes off of you
I can’t take my eyes off of you
I do and I will surely be lost in the stew
Lord, I can’t take my eyes off of you

Mark my grave with a cross
Mark my grave with a cross
I can’t even remember all the people we lost
So, mark my little grave with a cross

Wishing Well

Written By: Joe L. Snaggs

Wishing Well –

This dream affects the ignorant,
Do-gooders and ne’er-do-wells.
Fighting against the government
Puts you at the bottom of a wishing well.

I wish you well with all the sad songs.
I wish you well, Puritanical,
I wish you well, and I hope you carry on.

In crowded funeral parlors
Incendiary drums beat for the well-wishers.
While flag-draped coffins
Are dropped down the wishing well.

I wish you well with all the sad songs.
I wish you well, Puritanical,
I wish you well, and I hope you carry on.

Voices of dissension
Drowned out by the big parade.
Waves of holy water
Wash the bodies in their graves.

This dream protects the arrogant,
Do-gooders and fare-thee-wells.
It’s hard to overthrow the government
From the bottom of a wishing well.

I wish you well with all the sad songs.
I wish you well, Puritanical,
I wish you well, and I hope you carry on.
I wish you well, and I hope you carry on.

The State I'm In

Written By: Joe L. Snaggs

The State I’m In

I wake up every morning to the sound of being bored.
The way the light slips through the window, I’d swear it was the Lord
Coming for to collect me on a snow-white horse.
I ain’t afraid of dying, I’m already living here with ghosts.
I never did deny it, I just did what I was supposed to do.

So come on, Lord, and take me, I ain’t afraid to die.
If you want to send me up into the sky on a snow-white mare,
Or you want to drag me down to hell on a coal-black steed;
Anyway you want it, Lord, that’s alright with me,
‘cause anything is better than this life in the penitentiary.

Wind rattling the barbed wire; Bob White on a fence.
Wind rattling the barbed wire; Bob white on a fence.

Praying for the butcher to come and slice my throat,
As I lay here in my little bed, tender as a shoat.
I dreamt myself awake last night, my neck tight in the rope.
I beg the guards to shoot me, but they got too much at stake.
I bloody my head against the bars, but they won’t kill me in the state I’m in.

So come on, Lord, and take me…

The State I'm In

Written By: Joe L. Snaggs

The State I’m In

I wake up every morning to the sound of being bored.
The way the light slips through the window, I’d swear it was the Lord
Coming for to collect me on a snow-white horse.
I ain’t afraid of dying, I’m already living here with ghosts.
I never did deny it, I just did what I was supposed to do.

So come on, Lord, and take me, I ain’t afraid to die.
If you want to send me up into the sky on a snow-white mare,
Or you want to drag me down to hell on a coal-black steed;
Anyway you want it, Lord, that’s alright with me,
‘cause anything is better than this life in the penitentiary.

Wind rattling the barbed wire; Bob White on a fence.
Wind rattling the barbed wire; Bob white on a fence.

Praying for the butcher to come and slice my throat,
As I lay here in my little bed, tender as a shoat.
I dreamt myself awake last night, my neck tight in the rope.
I beg the guards to shoot me, but they got too much at stake.
I bloody my head against the bars, but they won’t kill me in the state I’m in.

So come on, Lord, and take me…

Texas Ain't the South

Written By: Joe L. Snaggs

Texas Ain’t the South


Texas ain’t the South, all my friends used to say.
It’s caught somewhere in the space between
Waxahachie and Santa Fe…

I stood there shivering in the dusky Dallas night
In my old blue jeans and a faded t-shirt that was too tight.
My teeth rattling against a can of Lonestar Light.
Texas Ain’t the South, we keep things civil that way.
Valerie says cilantro tastes like poison in her mouth.


From under this highway, the stars are placed just right.
The road to heaven might be paved with gold and lined with little lights,
But this cold beer is the only escape we can afford tonight.
Texas Ain’t the South, it’s all just dust and clay.
Jubal says he can’t remember what we did yesterday.

Hot as it gets ‘round here, you’d think it’d never snow.
Carlos’ daddy hopped a freight train out of Mexico,
And it’s cold as hell out here tonight, don’t you know?
So we stood there shivering, clutching ourselves tight.
Bracing up against the blue chill of a Texas winters night.
My teeth rattling against a can of Lonestar Light
Texas Ain’t the South, it was a wishful thing to say.
Benji blew his brains out in the garage behind his father’s house.

Texas ain’t the South, all my friends used to say.
It’s caught somewhere in the space between
Waxahachie and Santa Fe…

Discography

Coal-Black Rain
tracks available on myspace.com/joelsnaggsongs

Set List

Typically, I plan to play 8 to 10 songs. I play originals only, unless otherwise inspired, at which point I do covers of old blues and folk songs, like John Brown's Body, Darling Cory, or Drunkard's Special. I also play some Leonard Cohen, Neil young or Bob Dylan on occasion. Original songs are most important to me--if I wanted to see someone doing Neil Young songs, I'd go see Neil Young.