Dark mode
Where Do Missing Socks Go
It might be a little cliche to write a song about where all our missing socks go, but I did, and it's really funny=P. Be sure to listen to the whole thing as it's funniest as it builds.
Single - $0.75
Podcasts - Comedy - Adult
Previous peak charts position #37
Previous peak charts position in subgenre #5
March 24, 2008
MP3 6.0 MB
128 kbps bitrate
6:34 minutes
Story behind the song
I am driven utterly mad by the loss of my socks and picks over the years. I don't understand how it's possible to buy 50 picks and lose them all in six months. This song portrays this frustration. I will add however, that recently I bought a new guitar and $45 of picks along with it, and have only lost about two or three since then. Maybe this song did the trick.
WHERE DO MISSING SOCKS GO CHORDS: ["2-3" means second string (from high E), third frett] On "talking", D / on "day", X: 1-0 2-3 3-0 4-4 5-3 (D) you'll all / on "not", C9 (C with 3-3) / come (G) out, etc Chorus: G9, C9, D chords (G with 3-3, C with 2-3 and 2-3, ane D) Bridge: Em, G, Em, G VERSE1/CHORUS1: I sat talking to my socks the other day You'll all go in, but some of you will not come out What lies beyond existence who can say But still you must stay fearless and your hearts stay stout I tossed them in and turned the dryer on I left in guilt for sending them somewhere so unsafe When folding them, as usual, three were gone I took a moment then flew into manic rage I said "how can so much cotton just disapear!? I know these socks have mates, and many more exist; I never loan them out; they must be here!" So I combed the house, found nothing, but would not desist I crawled inside the dryer to look for a crack I found a tiny tunnel that had just been used I caught a laundry gremlin living in the back But he swore he just eats panties, so I'm still confused Said where the hell do all my socks go Someone tell me, someone must know Empty socks can't walk too far VERSE2/CHORUS2: I bought a bag of picks the other week I got a bag of fifty, because I had none Seems a bit excessive if you think Cuz if you sit and do the math, I just need ONE. Checked my stash of picks the other day I counted them all one by one, the whole damn pool I counted twice, "there must be some mistake..." But i got the same result, they totaled up to two Said where the hell do all my picks go Someone tell me, someone must know Picks don't simply fly away BRIDGE: Maybe they're just sitting in a junkyard (talking pick talk) Or maybe they're in some limbo with floating elephant eggs from hell Maybe they converged into primordial ooze (and oozed away) Maybe they were beamed aboard a starship from the future ... You know know, like in star trek IV? Maybe in the future there are no more picks, because everyone gets sick of rock, folk, and jazz, and one day a giant black pillar comes plumitting through space going "WHOB WHOB WHOB" and sucking the energy out of everything it passes killing everyone, and someone realizes the noise is really a lot of amps inside the pillar turned up really high but there's no music because the aliens on the ship don't have picks to play their guitars and bases with, so the aliens come back in time and beam up picks we lay down when we're not looking (because they can't significantly interfere of course because that would risk changing the course of history), but they need like a SHITLOAD of them because the black thing is really big so that's why they've been disapearing for so long. Where the hell do all our picks go Maybe they've been dropped and lost and trodden (I use picks no step has trodden black) Maybe they're in hiding with bin laden (does he even play guitar?) Maybe they all sank into a small bog CD version: ARTAX please, you have to move or you'll die! Stupid horse! JUST OPEN MIC VERSION (due to copyright): That's it. You’re doing fine Artax. Come on Artax, what's the matter? What's wrong? Come on boy! I understand, it's too difficult for you. Artax you're sinking! Come on turn around, you have to! Now! Come on! Artax! Fight against the sadness Artax. Artax, please. You're letting the sadness of the swamps get to you. You have to try, you have to care. For me, I'm your friend, I love you. Artax! Stupid horse! You've gotta move or you'll die! Move, please! I won't give up! Don't quit! Artax! [end open mic rant] Maybe they were eaten by a balrog (this foe is beyond any of you!) And where the hell did all my SOCKS go Maybe there's a sock-stock disease and I've got it (where--the--hell--did--i--put--) Maybe they were melted by a hobbit (*I* will take squish's socks to Mordor!) Maybe they're inside a watermel-lon (smell-free!) Maybe they were raptured into heaven, help me, Where in hell did all my socks go Someone tell me someone must know Socks can't simply walk away VERSE3/CHORUS3: I bought a bunch of pens; red, black, and blue I placed 'em down all over so I'd have a ton I knelt a moment, tied my untied shoe But when I stood up every single one was gone I had an FBI team search my room They bagged and searched and even dusted for fingerprints They couldn't find the pens, I had to swoon... But the good news is they found 614 picks!! Said where the hell do all my things go Physics says they can't shrink, can't grow The law of conservation of mass says they must be some- ENDING: Where the hell do all my socks go Where the hell did those cute jocks go Where the hell do all my picks go Where the hell did those bald chicks go Where the hell did tofu pez go [no guitar] Keaunu reves always says "whoa" Where the hell [pause: 4, 1 2 3] did those four beats go Where'd the bleeps, the sweeps and creeps go Where on earth did all those years go [no guitar] mommy, where do dead cashiers go? Where the hell did all those bands go Where oh where did all my fans go [STANDARD CLOSING:] Where the FUCK do all our socks go Someone tell me, someone must know Socks can't simply fly away... [END] [JUST OPEN MIC CLOSING: (due to copyright)] Where the FUCK did all these things go Physics says they can't shrink, can't grow The law of conservation of mass says they must be some-where out there... Beneath the pale moonlight Someone's playin' guitar with one of my picks tonight Somewhere out there my socks are sayin' a prayer That's we'll all meet in heaven And be re-united there [END]