Beck - Cell Phone's Dead - Sözleri

Strange ways coming today

I put a dollar in my pocket

And I threw it away

Been a long time

Since a federal dime

Made a jukebox sound

Like a mirror in my mind

Control 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 and the

Burning plastic

Beats are broken

Bones are spastic

Boombox talkin'

With a southern accent

Voodoo curses

Bible tongues

Voices comin'

From the mangled lungs

Give me some grits

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 a 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 the socket

One by one

I'll knock you out

One by one



This shit is real... that's right



Eye of the sun

Eye of the sun

Eye of the sun



Ahhhhhhhhhh








		
			



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