"Hello?"

A buzzing, buzz, buzz
Grasp thrown into the pocket
Grabbing the hornet

The cellular phone is something quite strange.
Is it a device to be revered or feared?
After all, what other invention of man
is a mouth whispering into anyone's ear?

"Hello!" "Hello there."
"How are you?" "Fine, thanks! Yourself?"
Then the call was dropped.

Shell full of buttons
That we constantly open and shut.
Look! Look!
What has he said?
What did we say?
May I ask who is speaking?
May I ask whose shirt the buttons belong to?
Obviously someone important.
Someone who demands attention constantly.
Someone who's always asking us
"Have you seen my buttons?"
Must be why we're constantly playing with
a shell full of buttons.

Four in the morning
*ding ding ring ring ding-a-ling!*
Who the hell is it!?

She keeps crying for attention when she has it;
My silicon girl with her thin body of plastic.
Sometime it seems like she's a bit slow.
I'll push her buttons and she'll cry out in glee
Because she knows they're going through her to get to me.
She knows I'll take her everywhere I go.

Why have we given
so much power to the phone?
My voice is not me.

First, man had fire and lanters with oil
Moved to bulbs made of glass; the night we did foil.
But what do we do now when the fuses have blown?
We reach in our pockets and pull out our phones.

Transcend the wires
Criss crossing our fine nation
Speak through the airwaves.

There once was a man named Dariell,
Who tried getting numbers from the belles
Though he was quite intense,
No, they'd never dispense...
Yes, Dariell never worked on his cell.

Ever wondered where
On Earth the watchmakers went?
Well, what time is it?

The really astonishing thing though
is that we each share a link
which travels to towers or satellites
and into the digital world.
Deliniating droves upon droves of our data.
Dredging through our daily dumps.
Memorizing our memories and making maps.
Stealing away our secrets,
storing away our secrets,
sharing our secrets unsubmissively
Who the hell do you think you are, me?
Computer databases speaking my name
Telling everyone what I think;
What I should think.
"Speak into the mainframe, quit your play.
It can't hear you. What did you say?"
It thinks it is me.
And so do others.
They think I am it.
My voice reproduced on the end of a "My voice"
And for all we know, we're being recorded!
So give your samples
and feed its brain.
Connect to people through its networks.
I'll sit here and cower a while
wondering if that really IS you
on the end of the "wondering if that really-"

"What's in my pocket?"
"Hands? Knife? String? A ring?"
"A cellular phone."