Our skin gets thick as we get older. The day's get long and nights get dark. Our home becomes a place to run to. Our souls are something not to show. Dreams I wanna see become green in the snow. I won't let go. I won't grow old. I'll lay down but I won't break down, no. Our love's a candle by the window. There dancing in pacific wind. Still bright enough to light the bedroom. But burning out before morning. The dreams we build at night might pull away and fight. We can't let go. Think how we've grown. We lay down but we won't break down, no.