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