Absence makes heart grow fonder, I was told
As the pines burned asunder
Witnessing the growing warmth
The host of baneful vapor
Dreaming of warm seas, of calmest shores
Yet under daggers with the thinnest of hopes
Laid on the altar as the blade descends
Should not take long to pierce such small hands
As the clouds watch me die
Rain fills my shallow eye
Where I am going now
I will get back this blood
Wounded stars above
Burning stones below
My horizon is now gone
Wounded stars above
Burning stones below
Just take me now
Where all devoted children go
Torches will surround me
Embers will pierce my lungs
Ashes will swathe me
My guts will paint this mountain
Absence makes heart grow fonder.