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