Out of Touch

Once in a while we might pass 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 pass 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