Fathers that never were
Fathers halfway gone
Have raised us daughters fine
We danced away through storms
Our hearts though bleeding blue
We grew up tall and lean
We grew up looking fine
Looking composed and calm
Those cheeks of darkened beard
Who gave us fields of stubble
Instead of golden corn
We gathered songs of thorn
We gathered blood and moss
For Fathers we shall mourn
For Fathers we shall sing
For Fathers who were there
For Fathers who have been
