Once in awhile 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
Our 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
Refrain: We are so out of touch, yeah We are so out of touch, yeah La, la, la . . .
We speak in the past tense to 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 corss over the other lane Everybody's going somewhere, everybody's inside hundreds of cars, hundreds of private lives
Refrain: We are so out of touch, yeah We are so out of touch, yeah La, la, la . . .
