Seems like they lied.

Sometimes I feel like I’m falling, and there’s no one to catch me,
So I wait to reach the ground, and brush off my knees.
It’s like that saying, “If you fall off your bike, just get back on,”
Everything will be okay, just like they always told me.

“Try, try again; third time’s the charm,” they always said,
Who can really believe that, certainly not the dead?
So when I reach the bottom I’ll brush my knees off,
Everything will be okay, one try left to go.

Here comes the last chance I have, waltzing toward me like some plague,
It comes to a halt, and laughs in my face; it’s like that saying, “What a drag.”
So I wait to reach the bottom, I wait to hit the ground,
It never happens, and I’m left with no one to catch me; they were all wrong.