Kompromat

Look at the sun, go behind the hill

And look at the country, through a dollar bill an'

I can't see the bottom of the hole that we're trying to fill

I think we're in love, with your abuse you got

One hand on the driver's wheel and the other a noose (?)

You can call it whatever you want,

I say we call it a truce

Whether it breaks, whether it bends

I don't know where I begin and the madness ends

Last time it happened

You said we wouldn't let it happen again {Wide sail?}, black holes, wide