Look back, follow the steps up to where they're flying. Down here it's nothing but skin, and the waves are crashing. The waves are crashing. I blink behind shaded eyes and try to find a way to say I'm still the same, I've just learned to adapt and I call it "age." Look back! Follow the years to where it all started. We flew then, in anger and youth, and we loved each other and believed in truth. We "held our heads high" in a reckless grab to understand why everyone was different, why everyone changed. X marks the pact--we swore we'd stay the same no matter if we stayed together. But then you find out you've can't stay sixteen forever. But you try you try you try you try to remember how to fly... and all I've done the last few months is try and try and try and try to hold on to the moment. The waves are crashing. The waves are crashing. I'm warm on a beach in San Diego trying to accept that the moments go, they slip away, away, away. The waves are crashing. The waves are crashing.