| Song | Automatic Blues |
| Artist | Chuck Prophet |
| Album | The Age of Miracles |
| 作曲 : Prophet | |
| Well, some things I'm built for fixin' | |
| Make more sense to throw away | |
| The touch of something human | |
| What I really crave | |
| Oh, just give me one thing | |
| I can sink my heart into | |
| Not another measure | |
| Of these automatic blues, come on, come on | |
| Well, the preacher preached the sermon | |
| Sinners bow their heads | |
| Sometimes I feel so alive | |
| I wish I was dead | |
| You might be on your back somewhere, baby | |
| Too beaten up in your pew | |
| Would Sunday lift the curtain | |
| On the automatic blues? Come on | |
| Hey, turn me on, turn me off | |
| Turn me out, turn me on | |
| I said, turn me off, turn me on | |
| 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 heap | |
| Goddamn, thermostat's gone crazy | |
| I woke up with the flu | |
| Wrapped up in a blanket | |
| With the automatic blues, come on | |
| Hey, come on | |
| Get a hold on me | |
| Get a hold on me | |
| I want somebody to tell me | |
| Where can my baby be |
| zuò qǔ : Prophet | |
| Well, some things I' m built for fixin' | |
| Make more sense to throw away | |
| The touch of something human | |
| What I really crave | |
| Oh, just give me one thing | |
| I can sink my heart into | |
| Not another measure | |
| Of these automatic blues, come on, come on | |
| Well, the preacher preached the sermon | |
| Sinners bow their heads | |
| Sometimes I feel so alive | |
| I wish I was dead | |
| You might be on your back somewhere, baby | |
| Too beaten up in your pew | |
| Would Sunday lift the curtain | |
| On the automatic blues? Come on | |
| Hey, turn me on, turn me off | |
| Turn me out, turn me on | |
| I said, turn me off, turn me on | |
| 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 heap | |
| Goddamn, thermostat' s gone crazy | |
| I woke up with the flu | |
| Wrapped up in a blanket | |
| With the automatic blues, come on | |
| Hey, come on | |
| Get a hold on me | |
| Get a hold on me | |
| I want somebody to tell me | |
| Where can my baby be |