𝑩𝒖𝒕, 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔' 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒔. . .

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔,

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒑𝒔

𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒑 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒛𝒆.

 

\\b a c k\\                                                //n e x t//