they don't come true.

sleep, rain, wine and everything depressing leads to depressing crappy drawings.

I lost where my reference was for this, so I am calling it done.

Something out of boredom.

cartoon

Console me in my darkest hour
Convince me that the truth is always grey
Caress me in your velvet chair
Conceal me from the ghost you cast away

I ain't in no hurry, you go on
And tell your friends I'm losing touch
Fill their heads with rumours of impending doom
It must be true

Console me in my darkest hour
And tell me that you always hear my cries
I wonder what you got conspired
I'm sure it was the consolation prize

I ain't in no hurry, you go on
And tell your friends I'm losing touch
Fill the night with stories, the legend grows
Of how you got lost

But you made your way back home
You sold your soul, like a roaming vagabond, yeah

I heard you found a wishing well
In the city
Console me in my darkest hour (in my darkest hour)
And you throw me down

I ain't in no hurry, you go on
And tell your friends I'm losing touch
Fill your crown with rumours
Impending doom, it must be true

But you made your way back home
You sold your soul, like a roaming vagabond

And about how you got lost, but you made your way back home
You went and sold your soul, an allegiance dead and gone
I'm losing touch

...who knows if it's finished, but I'm goin to bed. Tomorrow, it could become a bird or any other flight of fancy I suppose.

I tell my love to wreck it all. Cut out all the ropes and let me fall. There's nothing here for you.

E is for Eeyore who is gloomy but sweet