The First Post Of Christmas 2010

Hi folks,

another year has passed — amazing how quick it goes. personally, i think it speeds up as soon as you have kids.
anyway, i posted “25 days of christmas” music last year on facebook. this year i’m trying it on a blog instead and won’t limit to one a day (if time allows).

the first post this year is the wonderful tune from jethro tull, called “first snow on brooklyn.”  it’s from the band’s 21st album, released in 2003, titled, “the jethro tull christmas album.” (how’s that for originality?)

First Snow On Brooklyn
(Ian Anderson)

Ian Anderson: vocals, flute, acoustic guitar
Martin Barre: electric guitar
Doane Perry: drums
Andrew Giddings: keyboards, bass
The Sturcz String Quartet, arranged Laszlo Bencker
– Gábor Csonka – 1st violin
– Péter Szilágyi – 2nd violin
– Gyula Benkö – viola
– András Sturcz – cello

LYRICS

I flew in on the evening plane.
Is it such a good idea that I am here again?
And I could cut my cold breath with a knife.
And taste the winter of another life.

A yellow cab from JFK, the long way round.
I didn’t mind: gave me thinking time before I ran aground
on rocky memories and choking tears.
I believe it only rained round here in thirty years.

Now, it’s the first snow on Brooklyn and my cold feet are drumming.
You don’t see me in the shadows from your cozy window frame.
And last night, who was in your parlour wrapping presents in the late hour
to place upon your pillow as the morning came?

Thin wind stings my face: pull collar up.
I could murder coffee in a grande cup.
No welcome deli; there’s no Starbucks here.
A dime for a quick phone call could cost me dear.

And the first snow on Brooklyn paints a Christmas card upon the pavement.
The cab leaves a disappearing trace and then it’s gone.
And the snow covers my footprints, deep regrets and heavy heartbeats.
When you wake you’ll never see the spot that I was standing on.

Some things are best forgotten: some are better half-remembered.
I just thought that I might be there on your, on your Christmas night.
And the first snow on Brooklyn makes a lonely road to travel – cold crunch steps that echo as the blizzard bites.

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