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Wash
ClimbIs all we knowWhen thawIs not below usNo, can't grow upIn that iron groundClaire, all too sore for soundBetIs hardly shownScrapedAcross the foamLike they stole itAnd oh, how they hold itClaire, we nearly forfeitI... i'm growing like the quickening huesI... i'm telling darkness from lines on youOver havens fora full and swollen morass, young habitat!All been living alone,Where the ice snap and the hold clast are knownHomeWe're savage highComeWe finally cryOh and we don itBecause it's rightClaire, i was too sore for sightI... we're sewing up through the latchet greensI... un-peel keenness, honey, bean for beanSame white pillar tone as with the bonestreet sand is thrown where she stashed us atAll been living alone, where the cracksat in the low part of the stoning
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