Killers, The
Losing Touch
Console me in my darkest hourConvince me that the truth is always grayCaress me in your velvet chairConceal me from the ghost you cast awayI am in no hurry,You go run and tell your friends I'm losing touchFill their heads with rumors of impending doomIt must be trueConsole me in my darkest hourAnd tell me that you always hear my criesI wonder what you've got conspiredI'm sure it dawns a consolation prizeI am in no hurry,You go run and tell your friends I'm losing touchFill the night with storiesThe legend growsOf how you got lostBut you made your way back homeYou sold your soulLike a roamin' vagabond, yeahI heard you found a wishing wellSongtexteIn the cityConsole me in my darkest hour (in my darkest hour)And you throw me downI am in no hurry,You go run and tell your friends I'm losing touchFill your crown with rumorsImpending doom,It must be trueBut you made your way back homeYou sold your soulLike a roamin' vagabondAnd I found out you got lost,But you made your way back homeYou went and sold your soul,An allegiance dead and goneI'm losing touch
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