Straight Through - Death Is Not Glamorous

The days get shorter, colder, faster, every corner sharp

Gradually less gradual, the shadows grow

We should both know by now

But we’ve pulled through the coldest nights before

And we’ll pull through a thousands more

What we share gives off such heat, from behind our eyes

Through our hands and our feet

Biting at our skin, these eyes always tear up

And every inch of the ground we break

Gets frozen fast

But we make every second last

In the back of our minds, we struggle to find

On the tip of my tongue, we are still so young

So long