Bar next to the bridge was the best
The fell, the river, the scenery and rest
The peace, the quiet and sense of pace
Like it was nice and no need for race
The regulars would come by so
To share their stories, to drink up for
The time and days, the seasons pass
With things that change and things that last
With view on river, just few metres off
We see the shimmer – from dusk ’till dawn
With so much passing below and above
As spirits passing on their wooden boat
We caution humans to not engage
With lonely woman on shore in rage
She’s there whenever the moon is full
To eat whomever comes close – to pull
Her hands are slippery, sticky and long
That’s why we know to be where we belong
The bar on the side of the bridge in the town
We’re monsters of folk, with old business to run
