Besedila: Polly Jean Harvey. Urn With Dead Flowers in a Drained Pool.

I need your lie
Darling love lies

And if you gave it to me
I'd hold it in the palm of my hand
Like a good luck charm or a vice
And I'd reach up like a child to receive it

There is no more said
There is no more real
I got sun on my back
I remember you

Take me inside
Your warm love lie

And if he took me
I'd hold him up to the light
Like a God or a good luck charm or a vice
And I'd open up like a child to believe it

There is no more said
There is no more real
Got sun on my back
And I remember you

No, there is no more said
There is, there is no more real
I got sun on my back
I remember you

And still you can't give your peace to me