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Losing Touch
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The Killers
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1
Console me in my darkest hour
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Could this be that the truth is always gray
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Caress me in your velvet chair
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Conceal me from the ghost you cast away
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I'm in no hurry, you go run
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And tell your friends I'm losing touch
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Fill their heads with rumors of impending doom
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It must be true
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Console me in my darkest hour
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And tell me that you'll always hear my cries
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I wonder what you got conspired
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I'm sure it was the consolation prize
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I'm in no hurry, you go run
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And tell your friends I'm losing touch
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Fill the night with stories, the legend grows
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Of how you got lost
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But you made your way back home
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You sold your soul, like a Roman vagabond yeah
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I heard you found a wishing well
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In the city
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Console me in my darkest hour (in my darkest hour)
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And you throw me down
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I'm in no hurry, you go run
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And tell your friends I'm losing touch
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Fill your crown with rumors
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Impending doom, it must be true
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But you made your way back home
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You sold your soul, like a Roman vagabond
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And all that now you got lost, but you made your way back home
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You went and sold your soul, an allegiance dead and gone
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I'm losing touch
Losing Touch
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