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Song title: Church - Lost My Touch

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Streets of burnt-out shells, insurance jobs
A temporary spell in hell and it throbs
It throbs like hell in some divine comedy
It wont sell and thats a tragedy
But I know my way home I can get there alone
The day I need you they can feed me to the lions
They can stop trying to get it started
Its heart is gone, its shone for the last time
Its past time its mean time held over in-between time
Its like halloween time

I dont owe you anything
Now Im out of power
Now Ive lost my touch
Please dont touch anything
Every passing hour
Overcomes too much
I dont owe you anything

Theres a weaker weaker in the other speaker
A weaker echo of my own voice
Reproduced mechanically and electronically
A symphony of frequencies delivering
A slithering sound a pound of flesh
Caught in the mesh of pressure
A special deluxe de-essed it you guessed it
Im trembling (untrammeled ? )

I dont owe you anything
Now Ive lost my power
Now Im out of touch
Please dont touch anything
Every passing hour
Overcomes too much
I dont owe you anything
Now Ive lost my mind
Now Im out of touch

Should you would you could you could
Could you look good back on the street
Your feet get cold youre too old youve been told
You shouldve sold your soul
Its not worth anything anything out here
Not worth the earth youre standing on
Earth mother earth hurt sweet mother earth
What are you worth?

I dont owe you anything
Now Im out of power
Now Ive lost my touch
Please dont touch anything
Every passing hour
All becomes too much
I dont owe you anything
Now Ive lost my power
Now Im out of touch
I dont owe you anything, ah
Please dont touch anything, ah
I dont owe you anything, ah
I dont owe you anything, ah ah
Please dont touch anything, ah ah

Then he said his name is ray
He was a dominating, woman-hating misogynist s.o.b
1 2 3 thats how easy its gonna be
Everything is complete
If you need to cheat
If you want to eat
Even the air, once free
You now pay a fee
You now pay a far if you want air
Its not really fair
Fair enough, its tough stuff
Its tough to get enough and you laugh
You laugh but you cant get the staff
Hold onto the raft
Its my craft
Its finished, its kaput
Its over, finito benito
Dead fred
Gone for a song like old hong kong
Gone for a song