To pretend no one can find
|
The fallacies of morning rose
|
Forbidden fruit, hidden eyes
|
Curtises that I despise in me
|
Take a ride, take a shot now
|
|
Cos nobody loves me
|
Its true
|
Not like you do
|
|
Covered by the blind belief
|
That fantasies of sinful screens
|
Bear the facts, assume the dye
|
End the vows no need to lie, enjoy
|
Take a ride, take a shot now
|
|
Cos nobody loves me
|
Its true
|
Not like you do
|
|
Who oo am I, what and why
|
Cos all I have left is my memories of yesterday
|
Ohh these sour times
|
|
Cos nobody loves me
|
Its true
|
Not like you do
|
|
After time the bitter taste
|
Of innocence decent or race
|
Scattered seeds, buried lives
|
Mysteries of our disguise revolve
|
Circumstance will decide....
|
|
Cos nobody loves me
|
Its true
|
Not like you do
|
|
Cos nobody loves me
|
Its true
|
Not like you
|
Nobody loves.. me
|
Its true
|
Not, like, you.. do
|
|
-----------------
|
Sour Times
|
| Portishead |
