The Church - Lost My Touch lyrics

Streets of burnt-out shells, insurance jobs A temporary spell in hell and it throbs It throbs like hell in some divine comedy It won't sell and that's 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 It's past time it's mean time held over in-between time It's like halloween time I don't owe you anything Now i'm out of power Now i've lost my touch Please don't touch anything Every pa**ing hour Overcomes too much I don't owe you anything There's 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 I'm trembling (untrammeled ?) I don't owe you anything Now i've lost my power Now i'm out of touch Please don't touch anything Every pa**ing hour Overcomes too much I don't owe you anything Now i've lost my mind Now i'm out of touch Should you would you could you could Could you look good back on the street Your feet get cold you're too old you've been told You should've sold your soul It's not worth anything anything out here Not worth the earth you're standing on Earth mother earth hurt sweet mother earth What are you worth? I don't owe you anything Now i'm out of power Now i've lost my touch Please don't touch anything Every pa**ing hour All becomes too much I don't owe you anything Now i've lost my power Now i'm out of touch I don't owe you anything, ah Please don't touch anything, ah I don't owe you anything, ah I don't owe you anything, ah ah Please don't touch anything, ah ah Then he said his name is ray He was a dominating, woman-hating misogynist s.o.b 1 2 3 that's how easy it's 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 It's not really fair Fair enough, it's tough stuff It's tough to get enough and you laugh You laugh but you can't get the staff Hold onto the raft It's my craft It's finished, it's kaput It's over, finito benito Dead fred Gone for a song like old hong kong Gone for a song