BECK
Cellphone?s Dead (Letra, Escuchar Audio, Videos)
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
To comb my worries
Fix my thoughts
Throw my hopes
Like a juggernaut walks
Now let-down souls
Cant 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
Dont need a good reason
To let anything rip
Radios cold
Soul is infected
One by one
Ill knock you out
God is alone
Hardware defective
One by one
Ill knock you out
Mr. Microphone making
All the damage felt
Like a laser manifesto
Make a mannequin melt
Theres people phonin in
Like its unlimited minutes
Going through the motions
Just to say that they did it
Treadmills running
Underneath their feet
So they feel like theyre going somewhere
But theyre not
So lets 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 its after dark
And the dance floors full
But everybodys double-parked!
Cell phones dead
Lost in the desert
One by one
Ill knock you out
Eye of the sun
Is out of its socket
One by one
Ill knock you out
One by one
This jam is real... thats right
Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun
Eye of the sun
Ahhhhhhhhhh
