Shoot The Moose

So, I've been waiting for the right moment to post this, but since it's about Nashville weather, there is no way to predict the "right moment". With a teeny-tiny chance of snow later in the week, I thought "what the hey". So, if I've got everything right on a technical level, I'm posting my first "song" post to Shoot The Moose, in the form of a podcast.

Earlier this year, I wrote a song about the madness that happens in Nashville every time it snows. I made the song about a generic southern city, because the same things happen in all southern cities that get the occasional snow. "The weatherman", at least the one in my head, is a composite: the attitude of WSMV's "panic sisters", Tim Ross' face, Davis Nolan's authoritative way of speaking.

Anyway, here's the usual caveats. It's a home studio recording, so you may have to turn up your volume a bit. Yes, I'm slightly off key at the beginning, but give a boy some props, I did play all the instruments. I'll post the lyrics at the end of this post, but you really need to hear the song to get the humor. To any industry types who know "the perfect artist" to record this one: I'll be right here, just comment.

So anyway, here it is:


Click here to get your own player.

The Great Southern White-Out

©2006 Slartibartfast's Alter Ego (Love Never Ending Music)

Style: Up-Tempo Country-Punk

Lyrics:

The weatherman was nervous, sweat rolled down his brow.
It was bad enough to interrupt the Days Of Our Lives
He said folks, this is important, you better listen to me now
The day that we’ve all been dreading, I'm afraid it has arrived.


We've got an artic blast coming down from Canada,
And a lot of moisture floatin' up from the Gulf of Mexico.
Batten down the hatches boys, we've got the perfect storm
Everybody, go insane, when I say the word "snow".

It was almost more than anyone could take.
They closed the schools at the fall of the first flake…

Chorus:

It was the Great Southern White-Out.
The storm of the ages
The paper had a special pullout
It covered seven pages.
The old folks like to tell the tale
When the young folks gather round
Of the great Southern White-Out
That paralyzed this town.

There had been eight hundred accidents by the time an inch had fallen
And abandoned cars were on the side of every major road.
The Yankee Transplants laughed at us, till they'd hit a patch of ice
And redneck boys in four wheel drives offered them a tow.
The gov'nor called the National Guard to defend the milk at Kroger.
It seems a housewife had pulled a gun over the last loaf of bread.
By the time we got four inches, they had closed I-65
And the state homeland security had taken us to red.

And the TV tried to warn all of the masses
Stay off the bridges and the overpasses

Chorus:

It was the Great Southern White-Out
A storm to remember
The wooly worms tried to tell us
Way back in September.
The old folks like to tell the tale
When the young folks gather round
Of the great Southern White-Out
That paralyzed this town.

[Guitar Solo]

Slower:

Dad tended to the fire, and I built myself a snowman
We all marveled at the snow just hangin' on the trees
My sister made snow angels, and momma made hot chocolate
Winter in the southland Can be a sight to see

We enjoyed it while we could, till the next day
The sun came out – and it melted all away…


Chorus