Get all 7 Okies releases available on Bandcamp and save 30%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of A Penny for Your Thoughts, The Waiting Room Blues, Once a Fisherman from Spain, Aylmer, For Now, This is What I Love., Rolling Thunder - Single, and Trait D'union EP.
1. |
Cowboys & Indians
04:31
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Wandering from rail to rail,
for a reason as clear as day.
Take a glance outside,
at the fleeting countryside.
And your greens they turn to reds.
And the hills they turn to riverbeds.
Something harsh as it is bold.
Rapids fierce to the mountain's glow.
Must be cowboys and indians,
cutting their teeth.
Railway man never thought much of us,
my sweetheart and me.
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2. |
Cold Bath
03:07
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My, my, my, you're a cold bath.
Did you know that?
Did you feel my heart pound in the aftermath?
Sweet young child, does your chest hurt,
when you wonder?
Let these bitter pills and I make you stronger.
My shy boy, are you weightless?
Can you shake it?
Did it vanish like a passerby, or did you fake it?
Lay me down on your sailboat, with the odd folk.
Let me walk El Camino to Tofino.
My love she will save me.
My love she will save my soul.
My, my, my, you're a cold bath.
My shy boy, are you weightless?
Can you shake it?
My love shouldn't save me.
My love shouldn't save my soul.
My love shouldn't save me.
My love she should save herself.
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3. |
Around Here & Everywhere
02:14
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Where have those years gone?
Back again, then gone.
Back again, then gone.
Back again then,
back again then they're gone.
A sudden sense of right and wrong.
Back again, then gone.
Back again, then gone.
Back again then,
back again then they're
back again then they're gone.
For now, this is what I love.
Stick around and see.
Sing and tap your feet.
And the dance she breathes.
And the dance she screams.
'Cause for now, this is what I
Now, this is what I love.
Back again then they're gone.
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4. |
Church Street
02:43
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Grant me, Lord, a modest one.
A simple home, a thankful son.
A bank to hold my modest sum.
A wife to be the one I love.
A church to build, a house of God's.
A place to worship all I want.
A common man of simple wants.
A modest son, like anyone.
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5. |
Silver Haired Boy
04:17
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Waking up to the smell of tea
chasing me from my dream.
Older now than I've ever been.
Killing time I can't spend.
Sitting up to stretch my limbs.
I can see what's happening.
To be a better man.
I can yearn again.
Finding your spine.
Behind the pine.
In their firing line.
Laying down to rest my eyes.
I can hear the firing line.
"Ratatat", hear them sing.
Shut your eyes, hear them ring.
Sitting up to stretch my limbs.
I can hear what's happening.
To be a better man.
I can yearn again.
Finding your spine.
Behind the pine.
In their firing line.
Waking up to the smell of tea.
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6. |
Smokes & Mirrors
03:44
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I'm not much of a smoker, not even socially, but you're getting me there.
I'm not much of a smoker, but with you standing there it's just not fair.
Bored and beginning to think
I should have stayed home again.
Why do we even try anymore?
We just go out to shake hands.
Full-time workers and part-time friends.
I'm afraid you'll be gone by the end.
For the holidays and birthdays to come,
I hope you had fun.
But I feel fine
on my time.
Inches from you.
Inches from me.
I'm finally beginning to think
we'd be back on this wagon again.
If you're not too busy these days
selling smokes and cigarettes.
But I feel fine
on my time.
Inches from you.
Inches from me.
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7. |
Foothold
03:48
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I know, I can't show you the world.
Let sleeping dogs lie by the end of the bed.
I half-expect you, to forgive and forget and receive.
Moments like these they don't come for people like us.
A single breath, I can't afford to waste.
The rush in my body is melodic to me.
As I recall, life was oh-so much brighter.
It was dimmed by the love that claimed my soul.
So here we go.
A ship in a bottle with a flat-note.
Ocean's oh-so cold.
Loose in my home with a foothold.
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8. |
Quarter After 9
02:26
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It's not time, it's not mine.
It's a quarter after nine, oh Lord.
And as their heads began to ache,
as the clock struck half past eight
in the morn.
There's a Jesus on a cross mocking me and all my flock, oh boy.
For not wanting to be a part of this charade, his parade, oh Lord.
If you're ashamed, that's okay.
You'll always have someone to blame.
I wouldn't change a single thing.
Inside and outside you're a giant, old boy.
There's a Jesus on a cross mocking me and all my flock, oh boy.
I only wish he could accept me.
This body, my mind, oh Lord.
If you're ashamed, that's okay.
You'll always have someone to blame.
I wouldn't change a single thing.
Inside and outside you're a giant, old boy.
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9. |
Summer Sun
05:16
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First the sirens.
Then the war comes.
Like a ladybug sudden on your thumb.
It has leaped into the summer sun.
And we're left overcome.
And our sons bare and grin.
In our grief, in our sin.
Just to be left undone.
First the Guernica.
Forces us to see.
That ourselves were left overseas.
No allegiance, or nation to free.
And we're left overcome.
And our sons bare and grin.
In our grief, in our sin.
Just to be left undone.
The war comes back like ladybugs.
Then, the war comes back like ladybugs.
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10. |
Daily Grind
04:26
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You're mad as a hatter, you're pale as a ghost.
You taste like a pornstar, or so I've been told.
I feel I belong in a moving picture with you.
Where we both wrote the score and starred in it, too.
Oh, you're clever. Not wise.
"Like most of the youth", I said.
"Most of the youth of our time"
You're the princess vagabond, star of the Daily Grind.
You're the brew that I need, fair trade, made with love.
You're the breath of fresh air when I've had enough.
You're everything put together, but it doesn't add up.
Oh, you're clever. Not wise.
"Like most of the youth", I said.
"Most of the youth of our time"
You're the free loving wild child serving your exile.
You're the cultural shock wave learning to repave.
Oh, you're clever. Not wise.
"Like most of the youth", I said.
"Most of the youth of our time"
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Okies Gatineau, Québec
Okies are an Indie Folk band composed of one guy in four different fonts. They hail from Aylmer, on the Quebec side of the river in the National Capital Region.
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