Won't you text me with your master plan?
I think that I might die
Toasters talk to crack berries
I'm a digital explorer in analog roam
But that's all ancient history
Crashing cars in conversation
Who knows if anybody's gettin' through
Everybody's on the phone
From the pizza boy to the socialite
Without my sacred cell
We all salute the satellites
We all salute the satellites
Teenage schemes and mobile dreams
So connected and all alone
Touch somebody band
Talking to ourselves
On the download and the dropouts
Crawled up like a L.A. traffic jam
You're loud and clear but I don't understand
Get up, stand up, reach out
Yes, I remember well
Everybody's on the phone
Like bongs and Lincoln Logs
From the pizza boy to the socialite
Text me, send me an e-mail
Smoke signals and telegraphs
We act like crazy people
Ring me up, give me a call
Now I just can't go anywhere
As minutes tick away
And I'm a digital explorer in analog roam
The writing on the wall
We all salute the satellites
Make the airwaves hum
You're loud and clear but I don't understand
And I'm a digital explorer in an analog roam
Boston to Bombay
And everybody's on the phone
I swing from tree to tree on the very latest plan
You're loud and clear but I don't understand
And everybody's on the phone
On every major city across the land
Now we livin' like the Jet sons
If I miss anything at all
Talkin', squawkin', hawkin'
And everybody's on the phone
The information superhighways
In a wacky wireless fog
I'm a digital explorer in analog roam
Everybody's on the phone
I got my Marley on my ring tone
So connected and all alone
Now I'm a real jungle jump up, I'm a megahertz man
Won't you text me with your master plan?
Do you remember dialing up?
Still that shit flies off the shelf
So connected and all alone
I'm ADD on AOL and tryin' to read
From the pizza boy to the socialite
Won't you text me with your master plan?
