Does absense make the heart grow fonder,

Or pilfer to a lifeless stone?

Does ignorance sow minds the stronger

Than accepting buderns on our own?

Does logic dictate fortune,

As the despot of all things,

Or do we have the faintest chance

Of healing conscience's sting?

If man is he who thinks

And our love can make no sense,

Should we lay down Cupid's bow

And beg for recompense?

But we still can brave the storm

And raise the tattered sails.

Never to fly white flags

And bow to reason's gales.

Ask, but I can't conjure the facts.

Despair, I can't recall the plan.

But if your soul can forgive me

I'll be always a loving man.