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The Snapper
THE SNAPPER
Clark Terry - music
Les Harris, Jr - lyrics
Snaps on one and three. Man it’s killin’ me.
Right in the front row. How I wish he’d go.
Never finds the beat.
But he thinks he’s hip I’m about to flip.
Hear him tap his feet.
Man, the snapper comes here every night and snaps on one and three.
Can’t find two or four. Ain’t heard jazz before.
I can’t take no more. Please show him the door.
Can’t swing if he tried.
Makes me wanna cry. Still he snaps with pride.
Drunk and glassy eyed.
Still, the snapper has another drink and tries to snap in time.
In his mind TIME is a Magazine and he
Can’t feel any Syncopation.
On another gig. I’m about to wig.
Right in the front row. Snapping loud and slow.
I can never win.
Why’s he here again? I don’t understand.
How he’s such a fan.
Man, the snapper comes to all my gigs and snaps
on one and three.
I look into the audience he’s back. I can’t take it.
And there he goes, Starts snappin’ again.
Now he’s tappin’ his foot as he rocks his head, but
neither matches up with the music.
Right in the front row again, as he starts into snapping, the song is too fast, and he’s slowing it
down, as he tries to keep up, with the tempo he’s bringing it down, with his snapping on one and three, please someone save me.
It’s making me crazy.
Can someone please remove him, or at least tell him to please stop, the snapping,
so we can play.
On the break I finally met him.
His kind words changed my mind.
When I asked about his snapping he said music
brings him so much joy, he snaps because he really digs the band.
The snapper may be ok.
Since it brings him joy, I told him just to keep on snapping.
When we start the second set, he’s snapping louder
and I think I might live to regret it.
Oh no! I think, I blew it.
The snapper went and got his tambourine, and he also got his cowbell.
Now he’s coming on the stage, he thinks that he’s a part of the band now.
Now he’s up here on the stage, and can’t get on the
same page as the music slowly falls apart, because he don’t know where to start,
I think I made a big mistake, back when I saw him on the break, I wish
that I had just kept my mouth shut, minded my business, you’ll never change him, wonder why I
ever tried.
I wished that I never had talked to the snapper, I opened up a big can of worms.
I now regret I talked to him on break. Didn’t realize what was at stake.
Just making small talk and now I know why I never should have opened my mouth.
Heed my warning, don’t try talking to the snapper.
He’ll never feel the music, doesn’t listen at all, he just keeps on snapping.
Now’s he’s snapping up here on the stage,
And there’s no one to blame but me, I should have kept my mouth shut,
Now he’s our percussionist.
Clark Terry - music
Les Harris, Jr - lyrics
Snaps on one and three. Man it’s killin’ me.
Right in the front row. How I wish he’d go.
Never finds the beat.
But he thinks he’s hip I’m about to flip.
Hear him tap his feet.
Man, the snapper comes here every night and snaps on one and three.
Can’t find two or four. Ain’t heard jazz before.
I can’t take no more. Please show him the door.
Can’t swing if he tried.
Makes me wanna cry. Still he snaps with pride.
Drunk and glassy eyed.
Still, the snapper has another drink and tries to snap in time.
In his mind TIME is a Magazine and he
Can’t feel any Syncopation.
On another gig. I’m about to wig.
Right in the front row. Snapping loud and slow.
I can never win.
Why’s he here again? I don’t understand.
How he’s such a fan.
Man, the snapper comes to all my gigs and snaps
on one and three.
I look into the audience he’s back. I can’t take it.
And there he goes, Starts snappin’ again.
Now he’s tappin’ his foot as he rocks his head, but
neither matches up with the music.
Right in the front row again, as he starts into snapping, the song is too fast, and he’s slowing it
down, as he tries to keep up, with the tempo he’s bringing it down, with his snapping on one and three, please someone save me.
It’s making me crazy.
Can someone please remove him, or at least tell him to please stop, the snapping,
so we can play.
On the break I finally met him.
His kind words changed my mind.
When I asked about his snapping he said music
brings him so much joy, he snaps because he really digs the band.
The snapper may be ok.
Since it brings him joy, I told him just to keep on snapping.
When we start the second set, he’s snapping louder
and I think I might live to regret it.
Oh no! I think, I blew it.
The snapper went and got his tambourine, and he also got his cowbell.
Now he’s coming on the stage, he thinks that he’s a part of the band now.
Now he’s up here on the stage, and can’t get on the
same page as the music slowly falls apart, because he don’t know where to start,
I think I made a big mistake, back when I saw him on the break, I wish
that I had just kept my mouth shut, minded my business, you’ll never change him, wonder why I
ever tried.
I wished that I never had talked to the snapper, I opened up a big can of worms.
I now regret I talked to him on break. Didn’t realize what was at stake.
Just making small talk and now I know why I never should have opened my mouth.
Heed my warning, don’t try talking to the snapper.
He’ll never feel the music, doesn’t listen at all, he just keeps on snapping.
Now’s he’s snapping up here on the stage,
And there’s no one to blame but me, I should have kept my mouth shut,
Now he’s our percussionist.