The Wolf’s Cry
There is a place where monsters go to reminisce,
a box of letters with no address
hearts hung, still bleeding on the wall
a phone never ringing, awaiting an old lovers call
Who wipes there tears of those who cause the crying?
If I told you by heart was breaking would you think me lying?
There is a river where monsters wash their the feet
and talk of all the people they'd love to meet
a dance done in brightest part of the dark
we never speak of our broken hearts