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Why yes, Henri, I do believe in monsters
Not the kind with leathery scales
bloodshot eyes or lizard tails
not the ones with razor claws
yellow fangs or gaping jaws
No, I don't believe in those monsters at all

Why yes, Naheed, I do believe in monsters
Not the kind beneath your bed
waiting for your sleeping head
to roll past your mattress edge
so it can pull you by the hair
helpless to your bedroom floor
where it climbs upon your chest
hold a paw across your mouth
so you cannot cry for help
while your parents, panicked frantic
pound outside your bedroom door...
No I don't believe in those monsters at all

Where do all the lost dogs go
kitchen knives and vanished pills
soldiers' severed legs and arms
a joker from a dirty deck of cards
unmailed checks and unpaid bills
and all of the missing little boys and girls

They go down... down... into the monster's mouth

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