SOUR TIMES | ||||||
Portishead
To pretend and one can find | Fantaisies and morning rose, Forbidden fruit, hidden lies, Courtesies that I despise in me. Take a ride, take a shot now, Coz nobody loves me, its true, not like you do. Covered by the blind belief, Taht fantasies of sinful screams, Bare the facts or sooner die, End the vows no need to lie in chain. Take a ride, take a shot now, Coz nobody loves me, its true, not like you do. Am I what and why? Coz all I have left is the memories of yesterday, Oh the sour times. Coz nobody loves me, its true, not like you do. After time the bitter taste, Of innocence disintegrates, Scattered seed, buried lives, Histories of our disguise reborn, Circumstance will decide. Coz nobody loves me, its true, not like you do Coz nobody loves me, its true, not like you do Coz nobody loves me, its true, not like you do
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