A weight, unyielding, bends the light, A quiet ache, a sleepless night. The crush of sound, the crush of heart, A longing tearing us apart. In muted blues and somber red, The flicker of a love long dead. Glowing soft, a distant hue, A dream that slips away from view. A shadow sprawls where hope once stood, A lonely field, a darkened wood. Surreal and tender, beauty wanes, Its warmth dissolves, yet love remains. A glimpse of you, a fleeting spark, A rose that blooms within the dark. The weight of death, the pull of skies, The crush of knowing all things die. But still, it lingers—this despair, A fragile thread that fills the air. Your name, a whisper, faintly said, An echo lost, a crush of dread. And so, the sound—so loud, so still, It bends the world to match its will. A timeless cry, a fleeting hush: YOLKHEAD—CRUSH. Push for a timeless, iconic design that resonates with the slacker aesthetic and the album's existential undercurrent. Include the text: YOLKHEAD CRUSH
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