THE RIP

As she walks in the room,
Centred and tall,
Hesitating once more.
And as I take on myself,
And the bitterness I felt,
Realise that love lost well.

CHORUS
White horses,
They will take me away,
And my tenderness I feel,
Will send the dark underneath,
Will I follow?

Through the glory of life,
I will scatter on the floor,
Dissappointed and sore.
And in my thoughts I have bled,
For the riddles I've been fed,
Another line is over-oh.

Portishead