Lost My Touch

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 passing 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 passing 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 passing 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