Losing Touch Lyrics - The Killers

Console me in my darkest hour 

Could this be 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 rumours of impending doom 

It must be true 

Console me in my darkest hour 

And tell me that you'll always hear my cries 

I wonder what you got conspired 

I'm sure it was the consolation prize 

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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 Roman vagabond yeah 

I heard you found a wishing well 

In the city 

Console me in my darkest hour (in my darkest hour) 

And you throw me down 

I'm in no hurry, you go run 

And tell your friends I'm losing touch 

Fill your crown with rumours 

Impending doom, it must be true 

Photos 

But you made your way back home 

You sold your soul, like a Roman vagabond 

And all that now 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