❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣋⣽⡠⠄⠀⠀⣀⣀⡤⠴⠿⠛⢓⣶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠐⠉⣩⠟⢋⣡⡤⠖⠚⠉⠉⠀⠀⢀⡴⠒⠉⠁⠀⠉⠛⢦⣴⠟⠁⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⠵⣛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡼⠁⠀⠀⡀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣾⣋⣵⡾⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠶⠊⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⢻⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢰⡿⠋⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠟⣠⡔⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠛⣹⣡⠎⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⢀⡟⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢀⡞⠀⠀⢀⣠⡴⣿⠋⢠⡄⡟⠁⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⠴⢲⡾⡭⢵⠔⠋⠀⢀⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠴⣶⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⣠⡾⠷⠚⠛⣿⡏⢳⡏⢀⣿⡷⢷⣾⣿⡏⠀⠈⣞⡇⢸⠛⠛⠉⠀⠀⣠⡞⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⠾⠋⠀⠀⢠⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢠⣿⠶⠦⢄⣀⣿⣿⣾⠇⠀⠸⣧⢸⣿⣿⣷⣄⣀⣾⣧⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠃⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⣰⡞⠁⠀⠀⢀⣴⠏⢀⣠⠴⠒⠋⠉⠙⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠘⣧⠀⠀⢀⣩⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢿⡞⢿⣿⣤⣿⣳⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡏⠀⣿⣇⠀⠀⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣟⣥⠖⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠈⠳⣄⠸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠓⠿⠿⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠏⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⣼⢃⡤⣤⡄⣴⠷⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⠾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣽⣦⣀⣰⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠞⠁⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⠏⠀⢸⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡴⠋⠁⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣷⣤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡛⠟⠥⠤⣶⠟⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⠃⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣚⣭⣔⣚⣛⣍⣉⣀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⢦⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢠⡶⠒⠛⠋⠒⠒⠛⠺⠉⠉⠙⢲⠒⠛⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⣠⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⠏⠀⢀⣾⡷⠋⢹⣟⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⠿⢿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠹⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⡟⠀⠠⠚⠁⠀⠀⣸⠋⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣤⠤⠖⠛⢦⡀⠙⢿⣷⡐⢶⣶⣤⡘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠓⠦⠤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣞⣥⣴⣚⣛⣉⠁⠀⠉⠛⢦⡀⠀⠹⡄⠀⢻⣷⡌⢷⡈⠻⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣨⠽⠟⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⠟⣿⣿⠁⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠴⣞⠉⠉⠉⠙⣷⣈⠉⠉⠲⢄⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠹⡀⠈⢿⣷⠀⢷⠀⠘⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣄⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠇⠀⣿⡇⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⢀⣸⠇⢀⣠⡴⠋⠉⠳⣄⠀⠀⠳⡄⠀⢱⡀⠀⣧⠀⢸⣿⡇⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡟⠀⠀⢻⣇⠀⣼⠠⠤⠤⠶⠛⣟⠛⠉⢹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠹⣇⠀⠀⢹⡀⠘⡇⠀⣿⠀⠈⣿⣇⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠇⠀⠀⠈⣿⡀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆⠀⠀⣧⠀⡇⠀⢹⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⣽⠀⠀⠀⢀⡆⠈⣿⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⡀⢸⠀⠇⠀⣾⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠻⣦⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⢆⠀⠀⠀⠙⠧⠀⠀⣼⠃⠀⠹⠄⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⣿⢸⡇⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠈⠙⣷⢿⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⡇⠘⡇⠀⠀⡏⠀⢰⣿⣇⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⠀⠀⠀⡿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡟⠛⠋⠉⠠⡟⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠉⠛⣦⠀⠀⠀⣞⣼⠁⠀⡇⢠⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣶⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠀⠀⣇⠘⠀⡄⠀⣾⣿⣿⣆⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠚⠁⣿⠀⠀⡇⢱⢀⠆⢠⣿⣿⡇⢻⣼⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⢰⣷⣸⠀⡅⢸⣿⣿⣧⠀⠙⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡆⠀⠀⢻⣧⢸⡟⢿⡇⡇⠸⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠀⢀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⠈⣿⣼⡇⠘⢿⣿⠀⢻⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠁⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⠙⢧⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠇⠀⢀⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠆⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣯⣝⠛⠻⠿⠷⠶⠖⠂
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⣿⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⡤⠾⠋⠀⠀⣼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠤⠤⠤⠤⠾⢻⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠷⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠛⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠒⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

---

• Penchod



Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I'd say to you, "We could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition, too"
I'd end my days with you, in a hail of bullets

I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things
We put each other through and

I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there's nothing left to do
But prove myself to you, and we'll keep it running

But this time, I mean it
I'll let you know just how much you mean to me
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of everything
I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade and nights grow
And we grow cold

Until the end, until this pool of blood
Until this, I mean this, I mean this, until the end of

I'm trying, I'm trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade and nights grow
And we grow cold