Out Of Touch

Once in a while we might pa*s on the street We nod and we smile and we shuffle our feet Making small talk, standing face to face Hands in our pockets 'cause we feel so out of place Other paths may cross again in some crowded bar We feel a little lost 'cause we've drifted away so far Hoping to find the right words to say We joke a little and then go on our way We are so out of touch, yeah We are so out of touch, yeah La la la We speak in the past tense and talk about the weather Half broken sentences we try to piece together I ask about an old friend that we both used to know You said, "You heard he took his life about five years ago" We may pa*s each other on the interstate We honk and cross over to the other lane Everybody's going somewhere, everybody's inside Hundreds of cars, hundreds of private lives We are so out of touch, yeah We are so out of touch, yeah La la la