Losing Touch

E     B     F#    G#m
E     B     F#    F#
G#m   G#m   C#    C#
G#m   G#m   C#    C#

[Verse 1]
G#m                G#m           
Console me in my darkest hour,   
C#                     C#        
convince me that the truth is 
      G#m
always grey.
                  G#m           C#
Caress me in your velvet chair,   
                    C#             
conceal me from the ghost you cast 
  E
away.

[Chorus 1]
              B             F#    
I ain't in no hurry, you go run 
            G#m         (F#)     
and tell your friends I'm losing 
E
touch.
                      B         
Fill their heads with rumours of 
           F#   F#           G#m
impending doom - it must be true.

[Fill]
G#m   C#    C#

[Verse 2]
G#m                              
  Console me in my darkest hour, 
C#                     C#        
  and tell me that you always 
     G#m
hear my cries.
                  G#m            
I wonder what you got conspired, 
C#                    C#          
  I'm sure it dawns a consolation 
E
prize.

Continues after the ad
[Chorus 2]
              B             F#    
I ain't in no hurry, you go run 
            G#m         (F#)     
and tell your friends I'm losing 
E
touch.
                    B           
Fill the night with stories, the 
        F#     F#7
legend grows,
               B     (F#)        
of how you got lost,     but you 
C#m       (G#m)         E       
made your way back home.
       E

              B     (F#)       
You sold your soul,     like a 
C#m     (G#m)     E              
roaming vagabond,   yeah!
  F#


[Middle Eight]
G#m                   G#m        
I heard you found a wishing well,
   G#m          G#m
    in the city.
G#m                G#m           
Console me in my darkest hour (in
      G#m           G#m           
 my darkest hour)    and you throw
      E
 me down.

[Chorus 3]
              B             F#    
I ain't in no hurry, you go run 
            G#m         (F#)     
and tell your friends I'm losing 
E
touch.
                     B        F#  
Fill your crown with rumours.
  F#7

          E    B    F#           
Impending doom -      it must be 
G#m
true.
E     B     F#    F#

B   (F#)        C#m       (G#m)
        But you made your way 
        E              E
back home.
              B     (F#)       
You sold your soul,     like a 
C#m     (G#m)     E              E
roaming vagabond.
                      B     (F#)  
And about how you got lost,     
      C#m       (G#m)        E   
but you made your way back home.
           E

                       B     (F#) 
You went and sold your soul,     
     C#m     (G#m)        E      
an allegiance dead and gone.
        E


[Other]
           B     (F#)     C#m   

(G#m)    E              E

(I'm losing touch)

           B     (F#)     C#m   
(G#m)    E              E
           B     (F#)     C#m   
(G#m)    E              E
           B     (F#)     C#m   
(G#m)    E              E
           B