Biscuit

Portishead

Ohh sensation
Sin, slave of sensation

Full fed yet I still hunger
Torn inside
Haunted I tell myself, yet I still wander
Down, inside, its tearing me apart

Ohh sensation
Sin, slave of sensation

Ohh sensation
Sin, slave of sensation

At last, relief
A mothers son has left me sheer
The shores I seek
Are crimson tastes devine
I can't make myself heard, no matter how hard I scream
Izvajalec: Portishead