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Quince

You couldve been raised in Africa

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 burgundyA northern star over Istanbul

So I sing you my martyrs code

'Till you capture the sailboats

Subtracting the fees under carried time

Somewhere over the great divide

Clap like a canisterYou couldve been raised in Africa

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 burgundyI have an army suited and ready

For you to simply take a bite and steer

Were more than prepared to fight this unfair

All you need do is tease your taste and steerYour crimes

Are not mine or theirs

Weary from the wear you invent

I forgetFor sometime

Ive been underground

And dug to the sound of your breath

I forget

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