"As she walks in the room, scented and tall, hesitating once more. And as I take on myself, and the bitterness I felt, I realize that love flows.
Wild, white horses, they will take me away, and the tenderness I feel will send the dark underneath. Will I follow?
Through the glory of life I will scatter on the floor. Disappointed and sore, and in my thoughts I have bled, for the riddles I've been fed. Another lie moves over.
Wild, white horses, they will take me away, and the tenderness I feel will send the dark underneath. Will I follow?"
Portishead, The Rip.
