Wash Testo

Climb is all we know
When thaw is not below us
No, can't grow up
In that iron ground
Claire, all too sore for sound

Bed is hardly shown
Scraped, across the foam
Like they stole it
And, oh, how they hold it Claire, we nearly forfeit

I, I'm growing like the quickening hues
I, I'm telling darkness from lines on you
Over heavens for a full and swollen morass, your habitat
All been living alone
Where the ice snap and hold classed are known

Home, we savage high
Come, we finally cry
Oh, and we done it
Because it's too right
Claire, I was too sore for sight

I, we're sewn up through the latched greens
I, un-peel keenness, honey, bean for bean
Same white pillar, tone as with the bone street sand is thrown where she stashed us at
(All been living alone)
All been living alone
where the cracks at in the low part of the stone