Weekday Blues

by The Odd Socks

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02:19
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03:02
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01:52
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02:17
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02:21
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02:04
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02:09
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03:10

credits

released June 28, 2013

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The Odd Socks Dartmouth, Nova Scotia

A folk-punk band from Dartmouth, NS. consisting of Jeff DeCoste (lead vocals, guitar), Ian Rogers (back up vocals, guitar), Nick O'Leary (Bass), and Dylan Jewers (Drums)

@jeffdecoste

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Track Name: Intro #2
Home from work of nine long hours my legs are sore my attitude is sour. I’ma play my guitar. I don’t play well, I don’t play fancy, I find two chords and I start ramblin’. I’ma sing a little song. I’m talking about the ladies their legs and their breasts, the way the finesse, I wish they would caress. I’m waiting for a phone call she’s being a tease, did she take my number? I have to believe. Have faith have faith. It’s a very rare trait these days facts only depress or make me cocky. Her body’s a fact, she makes me both. I’d have a better chance playing the lottery. Good man, bad man, love from the holy man, we pray to gods who live deep in the Netherlands. They slow me down, they make me think, now if you’re my brothers come help me sing. I don’t kiss well, I don’t kiss fancy. I find two lips and I start rambin’. Hair down her back and her shoulders are shrugging, she might have a man but she hasn’t said nothing. I caller her that, her name was this. She didn’t like that now that’s the end of this.
Track Name: Dishwasher
I’m washing dishes in the back of the kitchen of your local franchise restaurant. I have been thinking about how up front their tipping, I’m as broke as this water is hot. Which is burning my fingers, they’re red, white and disfigured, and the dishes just keep piling up. My direct superior thinks that I’d work inferior with the extra change weighing me down. You know if I got paid per dish I’d be wealthy and rich, it wouldn’t matter that it looked like i just drowned. Instead I get stickers for good behavior stuck the the back of the refrigerator just so everyone can see how well I’ve done. I’m a dishwasher. I hate my fucking job. Then they bent me over turned me round and made me drown. The fruit flies are breading and I have been breathing them deep inside of my lungs. The chemicals to get rid of them cause me pain it’s inconceivable, I am bleeding and crying out blood. If I don’t tell health and safety I might get a raise maybe or at least listen to music at work. Eight hours in the dish pit, they call me a dish bitch. Eight hours, eight hours I would like a shower. So tell me when the garbage bag falls from the bin because it makes a big old mess and has a simple solution. Wont you stack the dishes, I need organization or else the dishes will fall upon me and cut open my skin. 

Track Name: Bed Bug Boogie
I had a dream last night that I was a rich man, I didn’t think to much about it I just had money in my hands. I didn’t care about the starving or those about to be dead, I just said ladies would you like to go to bed? There I was sleeping with the lady of my dreams she did everything for me that I could ever possible need. I got up from the chaos to get something eat, when I came back she said she was a teenage; it read illegal on her ID. There I was a law breaking man for thinking it was a woman not a girl. There wasn’t a lawyer in town who I hadn’t already boiled. My credit cards were frozen and my cash was limited so I got up bought some sneakers and I started running. The cops were coming after me they were yelling me my rights. They said, “You don’t have many but you can be silent.” I said, “Boys I wont lie to you that girl she was good, but that girl she abused me, she refused me, she amused me, she deceived me, oh and she pleased me all so well!” All so well.
Track Name: Romance Books
She read romance books where romance took to everyone who said I love you. She read romance books where love was remembered and the truth was over looked. Where the smile of a shy man, confidence of a pilot, structure of an athlete and the street sense of a crack fiend, where assembled in ink by a man a desk who gave that lover the eyes of a pilot. She read romance books, and fell in love with how the writer wish life worked. She read romance books, if she was lucky to the silver screen is where those words took. With cosmetics and plastic, body doubles and smash hits, multiple takes and lighting, twenty million for Knightley. Her eyes told her mind that love existed, her mind said that no one should have to live without this. She read romance books where sexy was the final chapter 386 pages since the eyes of the lovers met, and they waited till they were married and ready to have kids, and the story it happened in the 1700’s. Romance books where effort was the job of men. Romance books where she fell into the arms of him. Romance books that is something that I never read. Romance books, well apparently he did.
Track Name: Weekday Blues
He’s a stressed out man, he’s got tears in his eyes, he never used to cry but now he doesn’t all the time ‘cause he can’t find nobody to love him two days a week. Nine to nine, Monday to Friday and when he gets off finally he goes out to party cause he can’t find nobody to love him two days a week. Weekend liver, were did you go? Monday through Friday, no one really knows. Booze on your breath, I see you sweat. I know you’re human but you’re so phantomesk. Weekday blues, it’s them against you and you loose. Weekday blues, their coming after you and they do. I want to be your friend. I want to be your friend. I only see you on the weekend.
Track Name: Fix for Free
I’m going back to Dartmouth. I’m going back home from here and I’m going back to Dartmouth and we both know I’m gona have to walk home from here. My mind and don’t I know it, I am a young, young man with nothing to show for it and don’t I wish that I were older where my boring life would be accepted as normal. These Halifax girls all they want to do is party. I can see too much of your body, at least for this public space, why don’t you show off your pretty little face. I will cross that bridge with no shame. On a Halifax street I will scream.
Track Name: Drive
Your hips are the highway, so lets hit the road, I’m never right, babe, but I’ll pass slow. I’ve got motor oil, and I’ve got gasoline. The dirt your kicking off this shoulder it’s the prettiest haze I’ve ever seen. We’ve got have a million clicks on this car, and the way your driving me it just don’t seem that far. All these other cars have gone and waxed their hoods. But if you don’t mind I’ll drive all night, this cup of caffeine knows I could. Well we’ve been driving 120 but we haven’t got that far, lets kick it into gear my dear, turn this asphalt into tar. Well I’ve got two hands, and I’ve got a lead foot. Lets kick it up one more time and make this engine cook. I love you. I want more.
Track Name: Montreal
Feeling tired, might go to Montreal. Getting tired of the same old shit, might go to Montreal. Can’t go to the same old school, might go to Montreal. Can’t cross that same old bridge, might go to Montreal. Bonjour, Au revoir, oh god.
Track Name: Terrible Man
I’m afraid that I’m a terrible man. I’m afraid that I’m a terrible man. Well I don’t do say hi, [he ignores the existence] of the ladies walking by [he's a terrible man]. I hoot and howl [now he's paying attention] when their looking so fine, [he's a terrible man]. I spit and I cough, [and he yells and he bellows] and I use dirty talk, [he's a terrible man]. I might be a terrible man caught in a place where my position makes you mad. I might me a terrible man but this is who I am. I’m afraid that I’m a terrible man. I’m afraid that I’m a terrible man. I laugh in her face [when she tells him her feelings] life is too short to waste [he's a terrible man] I smoke tobacco smoke all day [even though she hates it] I ask her if she wants a drag [he's a terrible man] I play my guitar, [and he yells and he bellows] don’t have to listen to her talk [he's a terrible man]. So yell at me with your anger and sigh at me with your shame. Kick me out with your authority. Tell your friends about me and notify security ‘cause I will be back again. I’m afraid that I’m a terrible man [tell them where to go son, tell them where to go]
Track Name: The Linden
I've got a house that the sun don't stain, the paint don't peal, and the basement drains. I've got a house made of concrete reinforced with steel so the walls don't creek. It's a good young house made nice and strong the world might end but it won't fall. But this house ain't my home ‘cause it's got no soul. I've got a street without a crack, without a bump, without a scratch. Sidewalks are wide and the grass is mowed the trees are small but they will grow. On my street we don’t j-walk ‘cause we're afraid of getting caught. But this street ain't my home ‘cause it's got no soul. Well my beard is old and my face is young I should shave it off that's what I'm told. I do not look professional but that depends on your perception of. I waste my time with hooligans: stupid people doing stupid things. But I won’t find no soul, until I find a home. This house ain't my home cause it's got no soul I was not made in Taiwan but everything that I’ve got on was. And these shoes were made to walk so when I dance they fall apart. I did not buy pre-worn jeans every hole has a memory and my youthfulness is blind but I see shit all the time. How can my actions be justified if all I did was sit around and lie? Well this street ain’t my home cause it’s got no soul I’ve never been in a Camaro and neither has anyone else that I know so take me to where the roads are bumpy hug the center line cause the sides are eroding, drop me off on the side of the road and let my soul go. These elders look at me as if I have killed a man they don’t think that I belong here and I cant disagree with them. "if your grandfather saw you today he'd roll over in his grave." I think he’d be more upset that you think you know how he would behave. There is not fate involved with this, this is not how it’s meant to be, Some day ill move away from this dammed place, a little bit of strength in my knees.