Church - Lost My Touch Lyrics
Streets of burnt-out shells, insurance jobsA temporary spell in hell and it throbsIt throbs like hell in some divine comedyIt wont sell and thats a tragedyBut I know my way home I can get there aloneThe day I need you they can feed me to the lionsThey can stop trying to get it startedIts heart is gone, its shone for the last timeIts past time its mean time held over in-between timeIts like halloween timeI dont owe you anythingNow Im out of powerNow Ive lost my touchPlease dont touch anythingEvery passing hourOvercomes too muchI dont owe you anythingTheres a weaker weaker in the other speakerA weaker echo of my own voiceReproduced mechanically and electronicallyA symphony of frequencies deliveringA slithering sound a pound of fleshCaught in the mesh of pressureA special deluxe de-essed it you guessed itIm trembling (untrammeled ? )I dont owe you anythingNow Ive lost my powerNow Im out of touchPlease dont touch anythingEvery passing hourOvercomes too muchI dont owe you anythingNow Ive lost my mindNow Im out of touchShould you would you could you couldCould you look good back on the streetYour feet get cold youre too old youve been toldYou shouldve sold your soulIts not worth anything anything out hereNot worth the earth youre standing onEarth mother earth hurt sweet mother earthWhat are you worth?I dont owe you anythingNow Im out of powerNow Ive lost my touchPlease dont touch anythingEvery passing hourAll becomes too muchI dont owe you anythingNow Ive lost my powerNow Im out of touchI dont owe you anything, ahPlease dont touch anything, ahI dont owe you anything, ahI dont owe you anything, ah ahPlease dont touch anything, ah ahThen he said his name is rayHe was a dominating, woman-hating misogynist s.o.b1 2 3 thats how easy its gonna beEverything is completeIf you need to cheatIf you want to eatEven the air, once freeYou now pay a feeYou now pay a far if you want airIts not really fairFair enough, its tough stuffIts tough to get enough and you laughYou laugh but you cant get the staffHold onto the raftIts my craftIts finished, its kaputIts over, finito benitoDead fredGone for a song like old hong kongGone for a song
