It's a mix of Jazz and Funk, It's called Junk

“One end of this string represents your birth. The other end, your death. You tie the ends together, and your life is a loop. Ball the loop, and the days of your life touch each other out of sequence. Therefore, leaping from one point in the string to another…”

“…would move you backward or forward within your own lifetime.”

You’re out of touch I’m out of time (time) But I’m out of my head when you’re not around

Oh oh oh oh oh oh

Reaching out for something to hold Looking for a love where the climate is cold Manic moves and drowsy dreams Or living in the middle between the two extremes Smoking guns hot to the touch Would cool down if we didn’t use them so much, yeah We’re soul alone And soul really matters to me Too much