Leftovers at eight

I hope your hearts are happy
I hope your bellies are full
And I hope the coming weeks
Will leave you happy still

Hey, okay, at eight

My playground got paved over
By a thin-skinned jerk
So celebrate the good things
That distract us from work

Getting ready at eight

A friend's birthday is this weekend
And while she's not that old
I understand, traditionally,
The present should be gold

My god, it's November, at eight

This week I stayed in the house
Like an eremitic monk
But a friend and I hung out today
And now I'm playing funk.