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Losing Touch
Killers
Text File
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