Annie Lennox

Miracle of miracles,
look what the night dragged in:

it's a pocket full of misery,
trouble on the wind.

You spoiled the best years of your life,
you took them all in vain.

Now you think that you're forgiven,
but you can't be born again.

You say why, and you say why,
you say why, don't ask me why.

I don't love you anymore;
I don't think I ever did.