Bon Iver - Wash.

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

Bet
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 havens for a full and swollen morass, young habitat
All been living alone
Where the ice snap and the hold clast are known

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

I, we're sewing up through the latchet 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 stoning

Enough of this
Give us the grown
Give us the grown