Console me in my darkest hour

Convince me that the truth is always grey

Caress me in your velvet chair

Conceal me from the ghost you cast away I ain't in no hurry

You go run and tell your

friends Im losing touch.

Fill their heads with rumors of impending doom

It must be true. Console me in my darkest hour

And tell me that you always hear my cries

I wonder what you've got conspired

Im sure it dons a consolation prize I ain't in no hurry

You go run and tell your

friends Im losing touch. Fill the night with stories, the legend grows

Of how you got lost

But you made your way back home

You sold your soul

Like a roaming vagabond, yeah I heard you found a wishing well in the city

Console me in my darkest hour

Then you throw me down I ain't in no hurry

You go run and tell your

friends Im losing touch

Fill your crown with rumors

impending doom, it must be true But you made your way back home

You sold your soul like a roaming vagabond

And about how you got lost,

But you made your way back home

You went and sold your soul

An allegiance dead and gone Im losing touch