Lletres: Nights Like These. The Faithless. Memento Mori.

Bandage, our broken bodies, on these tightropes we?re walking.
I don?t ever think we can make it across this open sky alone.
My fingertips are frozen until the point of forgetting where I?m from.
But sometimes the dead can?t forget like young lovers.
We were left to dread the days of mouths to feed and no one to come save us