"Cellphone's Dead" lyrics - BECK

"Cellphone's Dead"

Strange ways coming today
I put a dollar in my pocket and I threw it away
Been a long time since the federal dime
Made a jukebox sound like a mirror in my mind

To comb my worries, fix my thoughts
Throw my hopes like a juggernaut walks
Now let-down souls can't feel no rhythm
Sorry entertainers like aerobics victims

Hybrid people light a wooded matchstick
Toxic fumes from the burning plastic
Beats are broken, bones are spastic
Robots talkin' with a southern accent

Voodoo curses, Bible tongues
Voices comin' from the mangled lungs
Give me some grit, some get-down shit
Don't need a good reason to let anything rip

Radio's cold, soul is infected
One by one, I'll knock you out
God is alone, hardware defective
One by one, I'll knock you out

Mr. Microphone making all the damage felt
Like a laser manifesto make a mannequin melt
There's people phonin' in like it's unlimited minutes
Going through the motions just to say that they did it

Treadmill's running underneath their feet
So they feel like they're going somewhere, but they're not
So let's put boots on the warehouse floor
Comin' to you like a rope on the chainstore

Throwing equipment from a moving van
Grab a microphone like a utility man
Now fix the beat, now break the rest
Make a kick drum sound like an S.O.S.

Get a tow-truck 'cause it's after dark
And the dance floor's full, but everybody's double-parked

Cell phone's dead, lost in the desert
One by one, I'll knock you out
Eye of the sun is out of its socket
One by one, I'll knock you out

One by one, I'll knock you out
This jam is real... that's right

Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun