Verse 1

You left your sweater on my chair

Sleeves still rolled the way you wear them

I press my face into the wool

It smells like you

And something cruel

Chorus

We were dancing in slow motion

On a Tuesday in your kitchen light

Spinning with a broken kind of devotion

You were here

Then you were out of sight

Now the room keeps turning

Turning

But my hands are holding air

Dancing in slow motion

Like you’re still there (still there)

Verse 2