Out of Touch Songtext
von The Jazz Butcher
Out of Touch Songtext
Mr. Norris changes Traveler′s Cheques - I've been out of touch.
Don′t look like that, I don't know what you expect,
I've been out of touch.
Have you seen a man without me - I′ve been out of touch.
A cheap dermatologist on Tiger Creme; it never seems to do that much.
Some things don′t change and some things don't matter.
Other things are going to fall to the ground
And they can′t even give themselves the satisfaction of a clatter.
Do be calm - I don't see how these things
Are going to do you any harm.
So do be still - You can relax at home and judge the world from your own windowsill.
He′s got his gyroscope shoes, neon trousers in assorted hues.
Scum fibres, synthetic balloon -
Just a regular guy with a regular dress problem.
Milk Bohemian. Devious plant.
I'm sure he′d like to take his place in history
But everyone I know assures me he can't; but I don't know.
I′ve been out of touch I just dropped by to say "hello".
And all the while, he′s looking helpless in his flat in undeniable style.
He's out of touch, looks like he′s out of touch now.
Out of touch, looks like he's out of touch now.
They came and got him Saturday afternoon.
They put somebody on the door of his room.
They didn′t talk about it much on the news.
But you could recognise those ludicrous shoes.
What he did they would not say.
The look on his face was giving nothing away.
Like a clean speaker with a lot on his mind.
He never looked like the dangerous kind, but there you go.
Your neighbours could be murderers for all that you know.
You and me,
We could be living on top of a stone atrocity and never know.
Out of touch, and so it goes, when you live out of touch.
Out of touch, I guess we're living out of touch now.
Out of touch, I guess we live out of touch now.
Ooh, do the Hoover. Ooh do the Oliver North.
Hoover, Hoover. Cuba, Cuba.
Don′t look like that, I don't know what you expect,
I've been out of touch.
Have you seen a man without me - I′ve been out of touch.
A cheap dermatologist on Tiger Creme; it never seems to do that much.
Some things don′t change and some things don't matter.
Other things are going to fall to the ground
And they can′t even give themselves the satisfaction of a clatter.
Do be calm - I don't see how these things
Are going to do you any harm.
So do be still - You can relax at home and judge the world from your own windowsill.
He′s got his gyroscope shoes, neon trousers in assorted hues.
Scum fibres, synthetic balloon -
Just a regular guy with a regular dress problem.
Milk Bohemian. Devious plant.
I'm sure he′d like to take his place in history
But everyone I know assures me he can't; but I don't know.
I′ve been out of touch I just dropped by to say "hello".
And all the while, he′s looking helpless in his flat in undeniable style.
He's out of touch, looks like he′s out of touch now.
Out of touch, looks like he's out of touch now.
They came and got him Saturday afternoon.
They put somebody on the door of his room.
They didn′t talk about it much on the news.
But you could recognise those ludicrous shoes.
What he did they would not say.
The look on his face was giving nothing away.
Like a clean speaker with a lot on his mind.
He never looked like the dangerous kind, but there you go.
Your neighbours could be murderers for all that you know.
You and me,
We could be living on top of a stone atrocity and never know.
Out of touch, and so it goes, when you live out of touch.
Out of touch, I guess we're living out of touch now.
Out of touch, I guess we live out of touch now.
Ooh, do the Hoover. Ooh do the Oliver North.
Hoover, Hoover. Cuba, Cuba.
Writer(s): Patrick Guy Sibley Huntrods Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
