A ghost dance in the graveyard You itch and scratch like a wounded cat in heat You are my saint and my saviour I am the young lion that rattles its bones to a dead beat And so the act of leaving, suddenly lost its urgency So seriously damaged by your affairs, Your affairs of the heart It's not quite how you planned it, Your instincts felt dysfunctional from the start And so the act of leaving, suddenly lost its urgency Depraved somewhere along our mild equator, Looking for someone to save you later Depraved somewhere along our mild equator Looking for someone to save you later And so the act of leaving, suddenly lost its urgency