Taste - Hierophants

It’s not the city, it’s not the place

I blame it on the people, I blame it on their taste

It’s not the girl, it’s not her face

I blame it on her haircut, I blame it on her taste

It’s not the boy, it’s not his race

I blame it on his uniform, I blame it on his taste

Taste of friends

Taste of food

Taste of music

Taste of mood

Taste of city

Taste of (?)

His taste of waste

His taste of same, same, same