Quince Lyrics - Inter Funda Stifle - Fair To Midland

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 burgundy 

A 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 canister 

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 burgundy 

I 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 steer 

Your crimes 

Are not mine or theirs 

Weary from the wear you invent 

I forget 

For sometime 

Ive been underground 

And dug to the sound of your breath 

I forget