Automatic Blues (Lyrics)
Well some things aren’t built for fixin’
make more sense to throw away
The touch of something human
is what I really crave
Oh, just give me one thing
I can sink my heart into
Not another measure
of these automatic blues
C’mon … C’mon
The preacher preached the sermon
the sinners bowed their heads
Sometimes I feel so alive
I wish I was dead
You might be on your back somewhere baby
or leaning up in your pew
When Sunday lift the curtain
on the Automatic Blues
C’mon
Turn me up, turn me off, turn me out, turn me on
Turn me up, turn me off, turn me out, turn me on
I feel like a pair of sneakers
in a washing machine
I’m bouncing off the walls
trapped in the heat
The damn thermostat’s gone crazy
I woke up with the flu
Wrapped up in a blanket
with the automatic blues
C’mon … C’mon
vocal, guitars: Chuck
Moog: Eric Drew Feldman
bass: Jerry Flowers
drums: Jim Bogis
horns: Ralph Carney
[ Check It Out: Age Of Miracles ]