• Song:

    Losing Touch

  • Artist:

    Killers

Am
Console me in my darkest hour
 Dm
Convince that the truth is always gray
 Am
Caress me in your velvet chair
 Dm
Conceal me from the ghost you cast away

 F         C            G
I'm in no hurry, you go run
               Am                 F
And tell your friends I'm losing touch
                         C                G
Fill their heads with rumors of impending doom
            Am
It must be true

 Am
Console me in my darkest hour
 Dm
And tell me that you'll always hear my cries
 Am
I wonder what you got conspired
 Dm
I'm sure it was the consolation prize

 F          C            G
I'm in no hurry, you go run
                Am                F
And tell your friends I'm losing touch 
                       C                 G
Fill the night with stories, the legend grows

               C G
Of how you got lost
         Dm       Am           F
But you made your way back home
              C  G          Dm    Am    F
You sold your soul, like a roman vagabond 

 Am
I heard you found a wishing well
 Dm
In the city
 Am
Console me in my darkest hour (in my darkest hour)
 Dm
And you throw me down

 F          C           G
I'm in no hurry, you go run
                Am                F
And tell your friends I'm losing touch
                       C
Fill your crown with rumors
           G              Am
Impending doom, it must be true

C  G       Dm       Am           F
   But you made your way back home
              C  G          Dm   Am      F
You sold your soul, like a roman vagabond
                         C  G          Dm       Am        F
And all that now you got lost, but you made your way back home
                       C  G      Dm       Am          F
You went and sold your soul, an allegiance dead and gone
            C G  Dm  Am  F
I'm losing touch
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