Losing My Touch

Toby Keith

Composição de: Scotty Emerick/Toby Keith
Reservations for one tonight 
I'll be eating by myself again 
At that quiet little corner spot 
Where we used to hang with all our friends 

And I'll ease down to the local pub 
Climb up on the tallest stool 
Holding court with my common sense 
Outwitting all these common fools 

I've got good taste for blended whiskey 
I can see my way around this bar 
I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox 
And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar 
I can't read your mind 
Baby I can sense this much 
When it comes to your love 
I feel like I'm losing my touch 

You're not buying this anymore 
My lies have come up short again 
You haven't said it's over yet 
Oh but I can feel a bitter wind 
And after giving me your better years 
And hoping for the very best 
Closing time is drawing near As I sit alone with all the rest 

I've got good taste for blended whiskey 
I can see my way around this bar 
I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox 
And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar 
I can't read your mind 
Baby I can sense this much 
When it comes to your love 
I feel like I'm losing my touch 

When it comes to your love 
I feel like I'm losing my touch
Página 1 / 1

Letras e título
Acordes e artista

resetar configurações
OK