The Book Report

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Dylan Owen

Dylan Owen is a musical artist known for his heartfelt and introspective songwriting. His music often combines elements of hip-hop and folk, creating a unique and emotional sound. Dylan Owen's lyrics explore themes of self-reflection, mental health, and personal growth. more »

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You are my favorite miracle
I have seen you in a field of marigolds
But I’m glad I don’t have to give my prayers to you
‘Cause I know we’ll make it through whatever happens

I don’t care how we proceed
I just care that you know me.
I’ve got bags under my eyes
Like I’ve been carrying groceries for a long time
With a strong mind, we were brought up on the wrong side
Of the railroad cross-slide where my Grandma says they all die.
But if you think about it, every soldier fights for compromise.
I can’t predict the future but we all can prophesize
On your bedroom floor where I promised I would never grow up
I think since then I’ve seen we all eventually go
To that white hospital bed, we watched your dad lay
And almost turn into a ghost, Ghost, I know you’ve had a bad day
But that’s okay buddy ‘cause I swear to God I’m by your side.
And I’ll be with you any time you say you’re down to ride.
So, here I am in the midst of feeling tired
Watching fireworks from your garage in old facades that we’ll retire.
I only recently believed that we’ve got tires in our souls
That don’t weary any time we go to drive ‘em.

We’re the suicide kids
We only think about ourselves
And keep secrets, like ‘I won’t tell.’
And up on Suicide Hill, where we climbed high as hell
We used to hide out and try to find ourselves.
We are the suicide kids
We only think about ourselves
And keep secrets, like ‘I won’t tell.’
And up on Suicide Hill, when we got high as hell
We used to hide out and try too hard to find ourselves.
 
And so I started liking English
It managed my expressions
And felt like wet cement;
It could carry my impressions.
What if the butterflies inside our stomachs are still hatching?
Or imagine that we search the dirt pile and find the hatchets that we buried?
In light of all this faith that I still can’t believe
You left it on the trampoline when you were barely teen.
I mean we traveled to September, the summer-killing month
And missed the cigarette kisses and the poems that I wrote that sucked.
But on that white hospital bed you watched your brother cry.
Now I swear I’ll shave my head, grow out my hair some other time.
‘Cause I’ve been fighting things myself, I can be his savior
I cleaned my room and emptied out those medicine containers.
So that I can take this pencil, the one meant for the book report,
Use up all its graphite on emotions I’ve been looking for
Lose myself inside a childhood of looking forward
Well, whatever, life just took its course.
I hope you’re looking for
 
The suicide kids
We only think about ourselves
And keep secrets, like ‘I won’t tell.’
And up on Suicide Hill, where we climbed high as hell
We used to hide out and try to find ourselves.
We are the suicide kids
We only think about ourselves
And keep secrets, like ‘I won’t tell.’
And up on Suicide Hill, when we got high as hell
We used to hide out and try too hard to find ourselves.

You are my favorite miracle
I have seen you in a field of marigolds
But I’m glad I don’t have to give my prayers to you
‘Cause I know we’ll make it through whatever happens
 
And on that white hospital bed, we’ll watch each other lie
And swear that it’s forever on the tattoos that we cover.
I don’t believe in miracles but I have at other times
And I believe that I can carry all your troubles. I swear
On that white hospital bed, we’ll watch each other lie
And swear that it’s forever on the scars that we cover.
I don’t believe in miracles but I have at other times
And I believe that I can carry all your troubles. I swear
That I’mma take this pencil, the one meant for the book report
Use up all its graphite on emotions I’ve been looking for
Lose myself inside a childhood of looking forward
Well, whatever, life just took its course.
I hope you’re looking for
 
The suicide kids in every person that you haven’t met
And all the perfect places that we haven’t been to yet
All the cameras and the passed-out floors that I haven’t mentioned yet
You give ‘em hell kid and never let yourself forget.
‘Cause we’ve all got higher hills to climb regardless of our depths
But I would never look to suicide if I had nothing left.
I would simply form a smile thinking back on all my friends
And read The Book Report I wrote so many years ago again.

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