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