Lyrics: Cellphone's Dead

Strangeways 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
I need 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 wooden matchstick
Toxic fumes from the burning plastic
Beats all broken bones are spastic
Robots talking with a southern accent
Voodoo curses bible tongues
Voices coming from their mangled lungs
Just gimme 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
‘Cos people phone it in like it's unlimited minutes
Going through the motions just to say that they did it
Now treadmills running underneath their feet
So they feel like they're going somewhere but
They’re not
So let’s put boots on a warehouse floor
Coming to you like a rope on a chain-store
Throwing equipment from a moving van
Grab a microphone like a utility man
Fix the beat now break the rest
Make a kick drum sound like an S.O.S.
Call a tow truck 'cause it’s after dark
And the dance floor's full but everybody's double parked

Cell phone's dead
We're lost in a desert
One by one I'll knock you out
The eye of the sun is out of its socket
One by one I'll knock you out