Whenever I want to get into
A real spiritual art making mood
There's one composer I turn to
And I'm excited to tell you of this dude
His name is Moondog
And he's my patron saint
When his music is playing
Is when I love to paint
His childhood dog howled at the moon
More than any dog he knew
And thus he named himself Moondog
This Viking of 6th Avenue
All day long in New York City
He stood on the sidewalk and barely spoke
His eyes stayed closed, and he had a long beard
And wore a horned helmet and a cloak
And because things are often not
Always as they appear
Most people who passed by
Had no idea of his musical career
He wasn't just some weird viking poser
This guy was a for real serious composer
He wrote symphonies and songs at a dizzying rate
And of course I think everything he wrote was just great
My hero Moondog blessed this world well
But today this is all I have time to tell
I'll elaborate more tomorrow with another round
Of why Moondog to me is so deep and profound
The mountains may fall
And the earth turn to dust
But one thing is forever
In Moondog I Will Trust
