Cell Phone's Dead

Strange ways comin' 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

Comb my worries, fix my thoughts
Throw my hopes like a juggernaut walks
Now, let down souls can't feel the 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 coming from the mangled lungs
Gimme 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 makin' 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

Treadmills 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
Coming to you like a rope on a chain store

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 it's socket
One by one I'll knock you out

This shit is real

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Clearly I've been on a Beck kick lately. This is a really fun song to dance to... but you gotta have a little funk in ya, and a morbid sense of humor. ;)

E-Pro

See me comin' to town with my soul
Straight down out of the world with my fingers
Holding on to the devil I know
All my troubles'll hang on your trigger

Take your eyes and your mind from the road
Shoot your mouth if you know where you're aiming
Don't forget to pick up what you sow
Talking trash to the garbage around you

See me kickin' the door with my boots
Broke down out in a ditch of old rubbish
Snakes and bones in the back of your room
Handing out a confection of venom

Heaven's drunk from the poison you use
Charm the wolves with the eyes of a gambler
Now I see it's a comfort to you
Hammer my bones on the anvil of daylight

I won't give up that ghost
It's sick the way these tongues are twisted
The good in us is all we know
There's too much left to taste that's bitter