Cellphone'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

Need to comb my worries, fix my thoughts

Throw my hope 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 burnin' 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 makin' all the damage felt

Like a laser manifesto, make a mannequin melt

There's people phonin' in like it's unlimited minutes

Goin' through the motions just to say that they did it

Treadmill's runnin' underneath their feet

So they fee like they're goin' somewhere but they're not

So let's put boots on the warehouse floor

Comin' to you like a rope on a chainstore

Throwin' equipment from a movin' van

Grab a microphone like a utility man

Now fix the beat, now break the rest

Make a kick drum sound like an SOS

Get a tow truck 'cause it's after dark

And the dance floor's full but everybody's double parked

Cellphone's dead, lost in the desert

One by one, I'll knock you out

Eye of the sun is out of its socket

One by one, I'll knock you out

One by one

(This jam is real) That's right

Under the sun, under the sun

Under the sun, under the sun