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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