Текст Fair To Midland – Quince

You could’ve been raised in africa
We lacked in our vigor
Been an «x» on the calendar
Losing our cool in antarctica

I learned to stand in Istanbul
So I send you my Morse code,
Till you capture the syllables.
Subtracting the fees under carried time
Somewhere over the Great Divide
Blacked like a candlestick

You could’ve been raised in Africa.
We lacked in our vigor, been an «x» on the calendar.
Losing our cool in Antarctica, so I put my coat on ‘ya,
the breeze was light burgandy.

I have an army suited and ready for you
to simply take a bite and steer.
We’re more than prepared to fight this unfair.
All you need do is tease your taste and steer.

Your crimes are not mine or theirs
Weary from the wear you invent
I forget for some time
I’ve been underground and dug to the sound of your breath