

"Who am I, what and why
'Cause all I have left is my memories of yesterday
Oh these sour times
'Cause nobody loves me, it's 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
'Cause nobody loves me
It's true
Not like you do..."
-- Portishead