Norma Jean - I Used to Hate Cell Phones But Now I Hate Car Accidents Lyrics
Lyrics
Run far away from what you have created.
You have created drama.
You're dancing around the truth.
My God rain down power.
My God rain down fire.
War.
With these diamonds you cut your throat.
Code red: Cut throat victim.
The outside looks so good.
It is so simple and yet they don't find.
It is so simple and yet they don't mind.
The tragedy is the ignorance behind the casket.
On the outside they look so good.
War.
They're walking to Wall Street in a straight jacket.
Woo!
Video
I Used To Hate Cell Phones But Now I Hate Car Accidents
Meaning & Inspiration
Norma Jean’s “I Used to Hate Cell Phones But Now I Hate Car Accidents,” released on January 1, 2002, as part of their seminal album *Bless the Martyr and Kiss the Child*, immediately confronts the listener with a title that feels like a raw nerve exposed, a stark re-evaluation of priorities. While the title itself doesn't directly appear in the lyrics, it serves as a profound interpretive lens, suggesting a shift from trivial modern annoyances to the harrowing reality of irreversible catastrophe, a metaphor for awakening to much deeper, more tragic spiritual and societal failings. This song isn't a casual listen; it’s a visceral sermon delivered through the furious energy of metalcore, urging us to look past superficial distractions and face the profound moral decay around and within us.
The song plunges directly into a call for accountability, declaring, "Run far away from what you have created. You have created drama. You're dancing around the truth." This powerful opening challenges the listener to escape the self-made traps of deceit and conflict. It echoes the very first human instinct to hide from God after sin, as seen in Genesis 3, where Adam and Eve attempted to conceal their transgression. Spiritually, this passage reminds us of Proverbs 28:13, which states, "Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy." The image of "dancing around the truth" perfectly captures the human tendency to rationalize, deflect, and avoid genuine introspection and repentance, a blindness critiqued in John 3:19-20, where people love darkness because their deeds are evil.
The intensity escalates with a fervent plea, "My God rain down power. My God rain down fire. War." This isn't a casual prayer; it’s a desperate cry for divine intervention and justice, reminiscent of Old Testament prophets imploring God to act against rampant iniquity. It brings to mind Elijah’s dramatic call for fire from heaven on Mount Carmel in 1 Kings 18, or the terrifying judgment upon Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis 19. The declaration of "War" here signifies not just earthly conflict, but a spiritual battle against pervasive evil, aligning with Ephesians 6:12, which describes our struggle "not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." It’s a desperate longing for God's righteous hand to sweep through a corrupted world.
The lyrics then shift to a pointed critique of materialism and self-destruction: "With these diamonds you cut your throat. Code red: Cut throat victim." The "diamonds" here are a potent symbol of worldly allure – wealth, status, fleeting pleasures – which, ironically, become instruments of self-inflicted harm. The pursuit of these earthly treasures, rather than bringing fulfillment, leads to spiritual ruin, a stark warning against the seduction of temporal gain. This imagery powerfully reflects Matthew 16:26: "For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?" It’s a direct condemnation of prioritizing worldly success over eternal well-being, a theme consistently found in Scripture, such as in 1 Timothy 6:10, which identifies the love of money as a root of all kinds of evil, causing many to stray from faith. The "Code red" alarm bell rings, emphasizing the dire, self-imposed spiritual emergency.
The song continues its indictment of superficiality and spiritual blindness: "The outside looks so good. It is so simple and yet they don't find. It is so simple and yet they don't mind." This highlights a pervasive deception where outward appearances mask inner decay, and fundamental truths are ignored or dismissed. It evokes Jesus's condemnation of the Pharisees in Matthew 23:27-28, who were "like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people's bones and all uncleanness." The simplicity of truth, often overlooked, speaks to the spiritual dullness described in Isaiah 6:9-10, where people hear and see but do not understand or perceive. The tragedy, the song implies, is not that truth is complex, but that people choose not to engage with it, their minds blinded by worldly priorities as alluded to in 2 Corinthians 4:4.
The ultimate tragedy is revealed in the chilling line: "The tragedy is the ignorance behind the casket. On the outside they look so good. War. They're walking to Wall Street in a straight jacket." Here, the full weight of the song's message crashes down. The "casket" represents the finality of physical death, but the true tragedy lies in the spiritual ignorance that precedes it, leading to eternal consequences. Many may lead outwardly successful lives, "walking to Wall Street" – a symbol of worldly ambition and material achievement – yet they are spiritually enslaved, metaphorically "in a straight jacket," unable to break free from their self-imposed spiritual bondage. This poignant imagery confronts the ephemeral nature of earthly pursuits in the face of eternity, powerfully echoing Luke 12:20, where God calls a rich man a "fool" for focusing solely on earthly treasures when his soul is required of him that very night. It’s a stark reminder from Hebrews 9:27 that "it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment," urging a profound re-evaluation of life’s priorities.
Norma Jean, through the sheer force of "I Used to Hate Cell Phones But Now I Hate Car Accidents," delivers a prophetic call to awaken from spiritual slumber. It compels us to shift our focus from superficial irritations to the profound spiritual battles raging within and around us. The "war" is not just external; it's a battle for the soul, a desperate plea for divine intervention against human folly, and a challenging demand for each of us to confront the truth of our own spiritual state before the final, irreversible moment arrives. This song is a powerful, unyielding reminder to seek the eternal truths that matter, before the ignorance behind the casket becomes our own tragic reality.