Weary from the war, I stumble into fortune Strike a deal with a witch and cut off her head With pockets full of gold, I journey into town Trade my scuffed boots for bribes and burberry
Though my heart remained mute As I fed the poor with the king's cutlery Locked in towers behind walls, comes some divination Where true love is promised to me
Now I live alone in this dirty old attic And my friends have no strength to climb up the stairs
So in the dark I spark this old box of tinder And your love is ferried to here
Dark to just one spark And you have my heart
But as quick as you come You're always gone so soon
COLLABORATION WITH ANDREW MAR. THANKS TO HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN & PATRICK WOLF.
I love the flow of the wolves and the spry looking colors. I love the parts that lack color and the design. For some reason I do feel like her pose is a bit immature for such wise presence and power the other parts hold, yet maybe you were going to youth. Overall, lovely, truly lovely.
ME MYSELF AND I [link]