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Текст песни The Killers - Losing Touch

The Killers - Losing Touch слова песни



Текст песни The Killers - Losing Touch




Console me in my darkest hourConvince me that the truth is always greyCaress me in your velvet chairConceal me from the ghosts you cast awayI'm in no hurryYou 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 hourAnd tell me that you always hear my criesI wonder what you've got conspiredI'm sure it dawns a consolation prizeI'm in no hurryYou go run and tell your friends I'm losing touch.Fill the night with stories, the legend growsOf how you got lostBut you made your way back homeYou sold your soulLike a Roman vagabond, yeahI heard you from the wishing well in the cityConsole me in my darkest hourThen you throw me downI'm in no hurryYou 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 soul like a Roman vagabondAnd about how you got lost,But you made your way back homeAnd the legions stand aloneI'm losing touch




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