Letra de Losing Touch (Live From The Royal Albert Hall / 2009)
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 awayI'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 trueConsole 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 prizeI'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 lostBut you made your way back home You sold your soul, like a Roman vagabond yeahI heard you found a wishing well In the city Console me in my darkest hour (in my darkest hour) And you throw me downI'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 trueBut you made your way back home You sold your soul, like a Roman vagabondAnd 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