Touchless Automatic

by Fuck Your Birthday

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02:36
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03:56
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05:00
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06:37
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05:16
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about

Touchless Automatic is a long-play record by the duo-rock band: Fuck Your Birthday. It was made with love in a warehouse and a messy bedroom. Rated T for Teen: because the band name has Fuck in it.

credits

released April 7, 2016

Album Art by Aiko Ling
www.instagram.com/ling0art
www.aikoling1022.wix.com/aikoling-art-design

FUCK YOUR BIRTHDAY
Christopher Henry - Vocals, Guitar, Bass
Roman Meisenberg - Drums, Vocals

Angela Nagem - Violin and Viola on "Waiting for the Horn"
Rose Anne Heater - Backing Vocals on "Alrighty Then"

Recorded & Mixed by Christopher Henry
Mastered by Justin Francis

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Fuck Your Birthday Morgantown, West Virginia

Fuck Your Birthday is a rock duo hailing from Morgantown, West Virginia.
Chris Henry - Guitar
Roman Meisenberg - Drums

contact / help

Contact Fuck Your Birthday

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Track Name: Alrighty Then
Uh huh, alright.
You're living in a fantasy.
Who are you?
Renting out a boathouse,
Floating off the west coast,
Eating from a flowerbed of sin.
Track Name: New Shoes
Breaking in my new shoes.
I don't want to.
Breaking in new shoes,
they hurt my toesies.
Breaking in new shoes.
Track Name: Dad Rock
Whoa. I'm gonna change
my name to butter
because I'm on a roll.
Track Name: Apple Tree
Why do I need a mother?
Why do I travel?
Why do I even stress out
when what does it matter?
Who could it be
standing there under the apple tree?
When it fell, my eyes were buggin out.
Wooden eyes, whittled out for me,
they said, but who are they?
Who is there talking?
I don't care, let them talk until the clocks turn
back a day when I could see trouble.
I know I should turn around.
Track Name: Bandwagon
One too many Brendans
spotted walking to class.
Maybe I will never understand
these symbiotic fools.
I fell off the bangwagon
and landed on my neck.
Broke my rocking chair.
Track Name: Chalkboard
Hey dude, wait up,
if you can't tell,
I can't keep up at all
with what you're writing.
The chalkboard looks uninviting.
See it, erase it, and chuck it out.
I don't know
if that's the answer I need.
My bubbles were clean
until I dumbed it down.
I bit my pen and released ink
to blot it in and have a think
on my time alone.
I spilled coffee again,
it's a means to the end.
Track Name: Soy Sauce
What if I told you
I wrote things on the soy sauce packets?
Unspeakable things.
What if I told you
walk without moving,
sleep without dreaming,
stare into the deepest part of an ear,
and know it hears you breathe.
What if you could
sit something tragically near
and make it turn away?
The stubby hand on the clock is trapped
again, like bread burned in the toaster.
What if you could make it turn away
until you know what if?
Track Name: How Soon
How soon will the sky open
and take us in?
The sky opens and takes us in.
I can only wait
to get a raise,
not a lukewarm eggroll.
These halftime days
go by with my eyes closed.
Dad's forgot cup on the porch:
blood, milk, tea, and wine
drying on the boards.
So gross.
How soon will the sky open
and take us in?
The sky opens and takes us in.
I can only wait to have a break
before my food's cold.
The phone-line snakes
like mold on a vegetable.
How soon?
Track Name: No Green Light
I'm not afraid anymore.
I am not scared now
I've seen Home Alone too many times
to be afraid of criminals
that always fail in the night
to kill a child in a film.
Hollywood won't buy.
No green light.
I feel so patriotic
watching White House Down,
inspiring tough guys
to do right by their friends and kids
so they do not die in a fire.
America almost falls,
that'll get a green light for sure.
No green light.
Nah man, there's no green light.