I'm in a New York state of of mind. Out Out of touch touch with the rhythym and blues But now I need a little give and take The New York Times, the Daily News. It comes down to reality, and it's fine with me cause I've let it slide. I don't care if it's Chinatown or

Kiss on the mouth, bliss of of a touch touch Hand in a hand, killing the fiend I'll write my love on more Than a thousand weeping willows Walk on your voice so far so close Whispering child so cold so mild All the colors mixed up in falls of of rainbows Tears on

No we don't give a fuck, we just Smokin' of marijuana till our brains get starve Feel my blood, without Oh, what precious plant, to destroy it I just can't Doctors use it in their laboratories Smokin' touches everybody's heart - it's mistery It's good

You're out out of touch touch I'm out out of time When you're not around But I'm out out of my head Out Out of touch touch Out Out of time And soul really matters to me Out Out of touch touch Shake it up is all that we know

Get inside their clothes with my green gloves Watch their videos in their chairs Get inside their beds with my green gloves Get inside their heads, love their loves Falling out out of touch touch with all my Friends are somewhere, getting wasted Hope they're

You're out out of touch touch I'm out out of time When you're not around But I'm out out of my head Out Out of touch touch Out Out of time And soul really matters to me Out Out of touch touch Shake it up is all that we know

I know I'm gettin' hooked on your love Talkin' to myself, runnin' in the heat Beggin' for your touch touch in the middle Of Of the street and I -- I can't stop thinking 'bout you girl I must be living in a fantasy world I've searched the whole world over To find

Keep in touch touch with mama kin Tell her where you gone and been Livin' out out your fantasy You'll have to climb back on the wagon It ain't easy livin' like you want to It's so hard to find piece of of mind The way I see it You got to say 'shee-it' But don't

So crawl on my belly til the sun goes down I'll never wear your broken crown I took the road and I fucked it all the way Now in this twilight, how dare you speak of of grace Touch Touch my mouth And hold my tongue I'll never be your chosen one I'll be home,

I'm in a New York state of of mind Out Out of touch touch with the rhythm and blues But now I need a little give and take The New York Times, the Daily News It comes down to reality, and it's fine with me 'cause I've let it slide I don't care if it's Chinatown or on