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. ;)
