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