Faces in the street, eyes like mirrors
Eating holes in the back of my head
I took you to my skyscraper
Raped you with a tape recorder
Under the bed
Maybe it's psycho-somatic
Or the voices in my sleep
That make me worry so much
But there's nothing I can do
If the rumors are untrue
'Cos I'm out of touch
Devious to the end
Starve a fever, lose a friend
I'm spending Christmas in hell
Whispers on the phone, faces from some other zone
They want my head I can tell
Maybe it's auto-suggestion
Or my terminal depression
That disturbs you so much
But there's nothing to be said
'Cos my nervous system's dead and I'm out of touch
Don't try to tell me that you know nothing about this
Just stick to the facts, don't think you can fool me with science
I bought a miracle cure but the guarantee has run out
Now you feed my disease as a last desperate act of defiance
Water on the brain, ideas pouring down like rain
I'm feeling soft in the head
Someone's at my door, someone heard and someone saw
I can't remember what they said
It could be image-projection, or maybe a reflection
I'm just drinking too much
But the faces that I've seen seem to stare at me and scream
That I'm out of touch
I'm out of touch