We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

The Yellow Machine

by American Fuck-Tape

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    Purchasable with gift card

      $6 USD  or more

     

  • Full Digital Discography

    Get all 4 American Fuck-Tape releases available on Bandcamp and save 65%.

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of You Are The Show, AFTXmasTime is Here, Silent Night [via AFT], and The Yellow Machine. , and , .

    Purchasable with gift card

      $2.37 USD or more (65% OFF)

     

1.
**THE YELLOW MACHINE (edit)** Of pearls, porcelain and platinum she’s made Externally priceless; but inside it’s all jade. A virtual love: just pictures, just text. She says “you’re the First”… Sit down. You’re just Next. The Insect Goddess ensconced & detached The Lady Premier has you crudely dispatched Not born- she’s constructed; a Lean Figurine. She’s the Empress of Empty – She’s the Yellow Machine Thin blood, thinner background. Faux entrepreneur. She cares not who’s looking… but- all eyes on her. You’re not even a Secret, you’re merely a Cipher. Like you, her vacation; though she swears she’s a Lifer. The Insect Goddess devouring tomorrows The Lady Premier that thrives on your sorrows Hypnotic. Robotic. Mistress Mise En Scene She’s the Empress of Empty – She’s the Yellow Machine Bruised eyes; webbed red, stream-weep sans sleep Mucking manic notes (upon notes) in his mind, just to keep. No brainstorm’s dull thunder undercuts the mendacity. Nor heartstrings unbind that unkind audacity. The Insect Goddess devoid of compassion The Lady Premier finds your tears out of fashion Some hellish inverse of Ringo’s “Submarine” ‘Cause we all die… in a Yellow Machine
2.
Buzzkill 04:21
**BUZZKILL** We used to storm up, baby – like a lethal typhoon But now we don’t shoot for the stars – we don’t bark at the moon But when we’re dressed to the nines Somehow your fire declines You’re a Buzzkill; with no Love Skill And that’s why I’m hopin’ these drugs will Do their part to numb my heart And help make me make some kind of a start You’re a Buzzkill – draggin me until… I can’t stop pounding these dumb pills Every night – to stay upright – and go another round in this fight… A knife of an invite stabs through our TV I.V. But I know you’ll never reach your Escape Velocity. When we’re out on the scene…well… It’s like you miss our routine...? You’re a Buzzkill; with no Love Skill And that’s why I’m hopin’ these drugs will Do their part to numb my heart And help make me make some kind of a start You’re a Buzzkill – draggin me until… I can’t stop pounding these dumb pills Every night – to stay upright – and go another round in this fight... But when we’re dressed to the nines Somehow your fire declines You’re a Buzzkill; with no Love Skill And that’s why I’m hopin’ these drugs will Do their part to numb my heart And help make me make some kind of a start You’re a Buzzkill – draggin me until… I can’t stop pounding these dumb pills Every night – to stay upright – and go another round in this fight...
3.
**PAYBACK OPTION** Instant morning, not instant coffee Nerves asunder; helpless wonder Every lie, each masque of caring Unfolds from your sleek clutch; “Don’t touch me!” Months and Weeks and Days and Hours Silence-bound, run aground, astounded All I wanted & thought I needed- So I compromised, complied and I pleaded. I’ll save the day (again) (and) You’ll walk away (babe, ‘cause) This is how it’s played (when) You exact your pay Typing letters, typing people The promises you broke; unspoken Paving mileage; hardly hearing Stuffed & shattered; bent & battered Self-possessed, impressed by nothing Your icy laughter; forever after. First abandoned, then imprisoned By your legs - and your mesmerism I’ll pave the way (again) (and) You’ll have your say (babe, ‘cause) This is how it’s played (and then) You get your way Scars & stories; success & suffering Always the martyr who had it harder ‘Show & Tell’ yet somehow Top Secret Faux selective; for-real defective It’s not just your guts that are disfigured; Your heart and your mind are so misaligned Heroic, stoic…yet pout and pucker? You’re just a checked-out motherfucker I’ll save the day (again) (and) You’ll walk away (babe, ‘cause) This is how it’s played When it’s Slay or be Slain.
4.
**Typhoon at Tripoli**
5.
**AMERICAN ROCK SONG [YOU RUINED L.A.]** A dance on the freeways; of Empty, of leeches Yoga and YOLO – too cool for the beaches Live in a car; don’t make friends - just make deals The city’s a bleach-blonde sex-tape on wheels But I started to see peeks of Real though that Fake Oases in places; Los Feliz, Silverlake Clifton’s and Koda. The Museum of Death Mexican markets and all the rest You ruined LA for me It’s cheap, it’s about an inch deep It’s phony, tacky and it’s cruel So I ‘spose it suits you Just fine – I didn’t need to “make it mine” I’d never really dug the Left Coast but now The City of Angels is nothing but ghosts I can’t go to Canter’s, Randy’s Donuts: a “don’t” Dusty’s is in the dust; it’s a bust; I just won’t The sacred Cha-Cha is out, ditto fave Thirsty Crow For Chrissake my namesake – Pink’s – is no go You ruined LA for me It’s cheap, it’s about an inch deep It’s phony, tacky and it’s cruel So I ‘spose it suits you Quite well – the both of you can burn in Hell Y’know – it always was kind of a joke but now whatever I found there is nothing but smoke
6.
[c]harm 05:23
**[C]HARM** All of everything was sharp in the night; alight A spray of bandied repartee Each up, one by one – til bands of the Sun Sliced endurance, expiring them with light. He’d been emptied yet charged by lighting strikes, like Tender tendrils tracing and embracing him He became mindless, forgetting kindness Under the spotlight & in front of the mic She puts the ‘harm’ in "charm" Effortlessly No – he can’t see. It’s just how she’s made to be As simply as she takes his arm, She puts the ‘harm’ in "charm" For the worth, the brilliance, the flash of the Jewel Made brighter with facets deftly cut by that Fool ‘til some beauty-borne blindness misfires a misquote And she’s talked his heart into cutting his throat. Here in the stretches of Silence he waits; debates With his doubts, turns his back to the facts To swim in her eyes & not drown in her lies Surrendering all of his logic to fate She puts the ‘harm’ in "charm" As if he knew It was all she could do. So she soothed him with a coo: “Dear, there’s no need for alarm” She puts the ‘harm’ in "charm"
7.
[oh, dear - you'll have to ask Roger]
8.
**TOREADOR [THREE-SYLLABLE WAR]** Insert coin and collect at will Dream in reverse, you can get your fill. So be my date to this Cold War; ‘cause this ain’t a warm, safe place no more No morphined infant; tubed to the gills. No icy mother. No diet of pills. Your doe-eyed tales can fall to the floor; ‘cause I’m the cape, but you’re the Toreador The Devil is the deep-blue Me Not even Angels could help you now. This is the part no one wanted to see. The Devil is the deep-blue Me Forget your teeth; forget your hair; Forget all those things that you barely wear. It’s one-on-one, it’s mind versus mind And then we’ll see who’s fallen behind Stuck in a room without a view; But all I ever wanted- to see you. Whatever you pretended behind that door Kicked off our little Three-Syllable War. The Devil is the deep-blue Me Angels can’t help you now. This is the part that no one wanted to see. The Devil is the deep-blue Me Forget your teeth and forget your hair; Forget all those things that you barely wear. ‘Cause it’s one-on-one, it’s mind versus mind And then we’ll see just who falls behind Stuck in a room without a view; All I ever wanted - to see you. Whatever you pretended behind that door Kicked off our Three-Syllable War. The Devil is the deep-blue Me No angels can help you now. This is the part no one wanted to see. The Devil is the deep-blue Me
9.
**THE [FOR REAL] LAST OF THE FAMOUS INTERNATIONAL PLAYBOYS** Dear Stephen, my Demon with all those songs that you crooned so perfectly – I can’t help hating you; ‘cause every word that you sang came true See – it was into her heart that I followed you; and you’ve no idea what I’ve been through – but your man José – well +he+ knows my name. But now it’s you and me; just me and you. oh – oh-oh I am the Last of the Famous International Playboys The Last of the Famous International Playboys In my heart; how I loved her But the only thing that she loved was You Oh - - Morrissey…can’t you feel my pain? Don’t say you don’t; ‘cause I know you do. oh – oh-oh I am the Last of the Famous International Playboys The Last of the Famous International Playboys In our lifetimes, those who kill our hearts They’re never made to answer. She said she would stay for all of the days – these are the ways, these are the ways in which I was betrayed. Now, I can’t blame it on you; I do not think that you’re evil – but the things I tried to do… just to make myself more attractive than you… but I failed. I failed. I am the Last of the Famous International Playboys The Last of the Famous International Playboys
10.
**THE COST OF THE RIDE** …and we’re spinning. How apropos That fleeting instant Life’s aglow And you pray to stay Right There… But there’s a banshee and I can’t breathe. I don’t remember how to leave. Her heart is black; mine is just blue Oh, baby – I know it hurts inside My mind is a cyclone: vision’s askew I’m +so+ sorry I laughed when you cried She walked out that door – and that’s when I knew Ooh, honey; that ‘sting’ is just Pride There’s no sense pretendin’ that it isn’t true: That’s the Cost of the Ride So it’s endearing; These turns of phrase. The gauzy vision of the days… Pressing, confessing smiles But here comes the shorthand – and a silken blade shivering, twitching in the Shade Tomorrow is never; it’s a coin in a well Oh, baby – I know it hurts inside Book passage to Purgatory – but end up in Hell I’m +so+ sorry I laughed when you cried I’m not even sure there’s a soul left to tell. Ooh, honey; that ‘sting’ is just Pride So I keep on buying all there is to sell… That’s the Cost of the Ride And this is the low-tide and the ebbing’s here. A stockpile for the year. We race to outpace the Need But here breaks tomorrow Open, bleeding and dire. One’s a Sucker. One’s a Liar. I’ll stand in line, though my pockets are bare Oh, baby – I know it hurts inside Seeping creeps can’t be worse for your “wear” I’m +so+ sorry I laughed when you cried I give you Well Done; but your give me… rare. Ooh, honey; that ‘sting’ is just Pride It may have been legal, but it sure wasn’t fair; That’s the Cost of the Ride
11.
**POOR LITTLE STITCH GIRL** Fresh out of the box, she got re-wired Wrongly ripped & strongly-dripped The quack who hacked - he got fired "Un-Mother", "Not-Dad"; whoever they were They already had one, they were done so they never held her close... they held it against her We can dream, but she's keen what it means to come apart at the seams She caught a bad rap as a bitch, but the hitch is - she got rich being a Poor Little Stitch Girl Year upon year; re-sewn as she grew Her whole life always under the knife She survived each cut not-quite-good-as-new Alone and cold, more bold with each suture Unsure how to live 'right now'; Every cut from the Past bloodies the Future We can dream, but she's keen what it means to come apart at the seams She caught a bad rap as a bitch, but the hitch is - she got rich being a Poor Little Stitch Girl Her insides re-routed, detoured, re-patched. Helped the parts, but not the heart Never 'all there', but now; all detached. She can't cut loose, see - that's just not her thing Understand: no one planned to live a Life held together by string. We can dream, but she's keen what it means to come apart at the seams She caught a bad rap as a bitch, but the hitch is - she got rich being a Poor Little Stitch Girl
12.
**(NOW IT'S YOUR TURN TO BE) OUT OF MY MIND** I used to rip myself to bits Now I don’t give a shit about you I was always tearin’ out my hair Now I don’t really care what you do Druggin’, tryin’ anything to numb and dull the agony Screamin’, cryin’, pennin’ nasty messages right through my phone Searching for something that I missed I chewed through 13 therapists PhD in devastation; congratulations, I am alone. But I did +my+ time inside that crazy ride (and) Now it’s your turn to be Out of my mind. I used to weep myself to sleep Now I dream peaceful deep without you You used to slither through my mind Now you’re pretty hard to find right on cue Drivin’ through those empty streets Hidden in the frozen heat Sweatin’, breathin’, spinnin’ and I hated every night I walked the walls, paced the ceiling Trying to dislodge this feeling Dropped down to Hell – and that just ain’t right. But I stood up, brushed off, and now I’m fine Now it’s your turn to be Out of my mind. I used to rip myself to bits Now I don’t give a shit about you I was always tearin’ out my hair Now I don’t really care what you do Druggin’, tryin’ anything to numb and dull the agony Screamin’, cryin’, pennin’ nasty messages right through my phone Searching for something that I missed I chewed through 13 therapists PhD in devastation; congratulations, I am alone. But I did +my+ time inside that crazy ride (and) Now it’s your turn to be Out of my mind.
13.
**THE YELLOW MACHINE (full)** Of pearls, porcelain and platinum she’s made Externally priceless; but inside it’s all jade. A virtual love: just pictures, just text. She says “you’re the First”… Sit down. You’re just Next. The Insect Goddess ensconced & detached The Lady Premier has you crudely dispatched Not born- she’s constructed; a Lean Figurine. She’s the Empress of Empty – She’s the Yellow Machine Thin blood, thinner background. Faux entrepreneur. She cares not who’s looking… but- all eyes on her. You’re not even a Secret, you’re merely a Cipher. Like you, her vacation; though she swears she’s a Lifer. The Insect Goddess devouring tomorrows The Lady Premier that thrives on your sorrows Hypnotic. Robotic. Mistress Mise En Scene She’s the Empress of Empty – She’s the Yellow Machine Well she was lithe, and blithe, and bright-eyed And she never cried. She was wistful of our tryst; full of mysterious tidbits Delivering some delirious fits of Bliss; A few near-misses; a few dead-on hits. Little riffs and dips found us mired in shit And a split; ending a bit…exposed. But who knows? From the get-go it was a rodeo. A sullied, silly ode to the winsome nights we rode Right where the stars showed the mightiest and the brightest And I feared I might explode. Yet, in I dove. Because our way of play was a breezy repartee – Night or day; fun underslung… bunnies & birds Kisses & words, kittens and… See- she and me… The Possibility. The easy freedom in between streams of things That teemed with Meaning. Or so it seemed. Y’see – She was The Most Beautiful Girl I Had Ever Seen. My Queen; My Perfect Dream. Well things just aren’t what they seem. Bruised eyes; webbed red, stream-weep sans sleep Mucking manic notes (upon notes) in his mind, just to keep. No brainstorm’s dull thunder undercuts the mendacity. Nor heartstrings unbind that unkind audacity. The Insect Goddess devoid of compassion The Lady Premier finds your tears out of fashion Some hellish inverse of Ringo’s “Submarine” ‘Cause we all die… in a Yellow Machine

about

"The Yellow Machine" - a Rockeretta Spectacular
©2012 Psychology Bag/Cuebro Records

credits

released November 23, 2012

[see individual songs for music credits]
©Psychology Bag Music/Cuebro Records
Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Dr. Kyle "The" Jones
Sleeping Brotherhood Studios

license

Some rights reserved. Please refer to individual track pages for license info.

tags

about

American Fuck-Tape Faroe Islands

American Fuck-Tape created the Rockeretta Spectacular - and accompanying full-length concept-record "The Yellow Machine".
...to prove you don't have to just sit there and take it.

Not Every Time.

©Psychology Bag Music/Cuebro Records
... more

contact / help

Contact American Fuck-Tape

Streaming and
Download help

Report this album or account

If you like American Fuck-Tape, you may also like: