География - 8 | Текст песни

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With your wild, call the pace
Taste the tracks of the waste
With your wild, with your sweet
With your cold black-eyed teeth

I close my eyes and I pray, yes I pray

Let it slide, let it slide
Ignore me and everything I've done
For I am stupid, I am poison
I take this one and I taste the tracks
I taste the tracks

Of the waste in my head
And you face me instead

I must be drifting somewhere

I held in my hand but it's hard, so hard to see reason
The burning is here, is only here to follow through

But here it is harder than a screaming fist and I hate it
It's dark behind your smile and I can follow through

Let it slide, let it slide
Ignore me and everything I've done
For words, like bullets they know when to come
And taste the tracks, and taste the tracks

Of the waste in my head and you face me instead
Well ignore me and everything I said
For I am stupid, I am poison.

I held in my hand but it's hard, so hard to see reason
It's dark behind your smile and I can follow through

I close my eyes and I pray, yes I pray
With your wild, call the pace
Taste the track of the waste
With your wild, with your sweet
With your cold black-eyed teeth

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