Cellular (Live)

There's a television

There's a television

Speaking to me

There's a French girl

On my television

She's crying in the palm of my hand

In moving mental

I read the paper, or just the photos

I rip one out with my hand

There's a massacre, across the o, (across the o, across the o), across the ocean

I can see it in the palm of my hands

Below the ground floor

I'm losing signal, we've lost connection

I left her dying, she was still crying

And now she's lying in my head

Above the third rail, shrapnel flying

Next door's wobbling

But I'm riding to the end

What am I good for? (Am I good for)

I've got no signal

Abandoned to the voice in my head

Eh, we kind of slow it down a bit