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Saying goodbye, saying goodbye to you.
Saying goodbye, saying goodbye to you.
Its hand is true, and you know I will be back soon,
'cos it's hard to do, without you.

Saying goodbye, final goodbyes to do.
Swapping numbers, getting our fires from the room.
And it's all put away, deep in a place where I keep it safe:
With the spit, and the fire and rage; there for you.

I just can't dance, without you,
And I can't see it's you.

Saying goodbye, another goodbye to do.
It's your post-mortem; to the autumn: adieu.
And I know there will be days, that I will stare at the door to my cage,
And I will dream I can fly away, back to you.

I just can't dance without you,
And I can't sing in tune.

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