Adjust Your Laces - A Song about boots, AND a covid update (Patreon)

Hey friends, so to be quick: I tested positive for Covid about 2 weeks ago, haven't had a symptom other than mild sniffles for 10 days, but I keep testing positive. SO I'm locked down again and doing whatever work I can in the meantime. My next project is a VIDEO about music (been needing to finish this thing on Moron Police forever) and that should take about another couple of weeks, but it's comin! I appreciate your patience and continued support while I have a reduced output. The Moron Police video will absolutely have some work streams.

THIS song:
I was commissioned by fellow Patron Rick Whitechest to do a song about enjoying boots in a universe where everyone's animals and no one wears footwear if not necessary for the situation. Our main character is a weasel who wears boots. People think he's weird.

The opening of the song is a sort of "Recitative" without a completely metric "beat". Bits are slower/faster like I'm sing-talking. I love the amount of drama in it, I love how things sound with only vocals and guitar, and once it gets going I think it's extremely fun ^^ Tons of energy in the bouncy chords that are somewhere between old-school country and vaudeville. Some alternate dimension Blast Radius song :3

Tell me what you think!

Lyrics:

*Sung gradually*

   A

These are my boots.

  G


At least the ones I have on now,

  D   E    A


I probably have a hundred more at home.


Bm 


Every pair’s a different color

D


Every stare’s a different shade

Bm 


of confusion or annoyance

  E C#7

as they ask me to explain


   F#m

See, covered toes can bother those who show

A/E


their stompers on the daily

D E  A


They roll their eyes and hold the urge to slap me


F#m


Not just flip flops on the black tops, or

A/E


shoes to beat the snow

B7 E7


But boots up to my ankles make me happy


(boots around his ankles make him happy w/whistles)


Bm   F#m  E


What am I to do *extend into a big fermata*
(what is he to do?)

—- *jaunty, with a consistent tempo*

Chorus:

A F#m


Relax. Adjust your laces.
    

Bm E7


Kick ‘em off or put ‘em on

A E7


None of it matters when you’re gone


A  F#7


Shine ‘em up. They’re made for walkin’

Bm  E7 A


and I’m steppin’ to a drum that only I can hear

A Ab G  F#7

Step out the door.

walk to the corner

Bm


they can’t hate it

feel like I made it
  E7


and best of all, you prolly called it   A


I got a brand new pair of Timbs strapped to my peets
(fill - F, E7)

F#7

I walk mile get a couple of stares.      Bm

oh can’t they tell I’ve not a single care in the world

when there’s pleather underneath me, 
 E7

I could be walkin’ on the sun, and I would still be havin’ fun
and if you’re wound up tight there might be a better way:

Chorus

back to rubato - A(triplet slowing)
   Bm

Next time your’e going hiking, and don’t 

D

want to scrape your beans
 Bm


If it’s muddy or its raining and you

E7

want to keep them clean

   A


Call me up.
   A  G7    F#7


I’ll get ‘em cooooooovered

Bm E7   A. . . |A. A7. |

and everyone in the world will hear our drummer play