AUTOMATIC

Hulvey's "Automatic" runs on a simple conceit: life submitted to God moves without hesitation, the way a reflex does. The hook splits the word into a kind of double meaning — the King's return will hit the screen and leave only static, and the response to that reality should be automatic rather than calculated. Baptism becomes a timestamp ("check the date of the birth"), and the days between now and the return are framed as work, not waiting. The verses are packed with wordplay: spelling out R-E-D as the outfit of salvation, insisting that a man is defined not by age but by whether God manages him, and trading a Patek watch for grace, love, faith, and peace held in God's fist. One line rejects horoscopes outright — direction comes from Scripture, not star signs — and another describes a house filling up and a hand played straight, all in. The tone is confident and a little playful, but the claim underneath is serious: faith that is lived out legibly, in public, without a part-time commitment. Even the closing bar turns the title into a punchline about finishing the track automatically.