Dylan Owen - Break Some Ice

The roaring twenties were probably not as loud as they should have been
My roaring twenties were quiet
As quiet as the center of the ocean
As quiet as a frozen lake in the middle of winter
In upstate New York where it always snows
The roaring twenties were as quiet as the other end of the phone
But I'll keep trying to call you
Until I hear an echo back
And I get that sound of regurgitated clarity
The roaring twenties were as quiet as the Museum of Natural History
In the middle of the night
And I think I took you there once
To watch digital stars spin on the ceiling
From old velour theater seats
While someone's 9-month-old baby cried
The roaring twenties were as still as my writer's block
Which I'm constantly drifting in and out of
My ice patch of thawing inspiration
Floating across some unnamed ocean somewhere
Thinking that if I survive
I'll claim I was an explorer of sorts
Of my split-personality childhood
Of my great American highway shoulder piggyback journeys home
Where me, a younger me, and all my tributary best friends
Experience cuts for the first time
Fall in love for the first time
Sleep outside in someone's front yard for the first time
Dry our eyes with someone's cotton sleeve in the back of a school bus for the first time
Sleep on waiting room floors for the first time
Watch our parents get divorced for the first time
Experience it all for the first time
And watch our wisest relatives' physical bodies crumble into a million little scattered pieces as we get down on our hands and knees and try to pick them all up from the cutting room floor
We'll stitch them back together into a beautiful thing
A scene comes into view
A movie starts...

Where do we go from here my friend
Where do we go from here my friend
To patch up all the Holes In Our Stories

On and on, the rocking constant calm, the onslaught
Don’t stop me now before I find the love that someone raffles off
My opera highs
My grand piano lows
And the forgotten novels of my unpainted bedroom walls
The roaring twenties were as patient as the letters
That I still consider sending out to Anne as she progresses
Through the mountains where she walks
Through the altitudes of gods
I only see her when I travel
Through my albums, through my songs
And though my flaws may not be seen
They’re the cause of all my dreams
I wear them every single day
They’re like the scar that’s on my cheek
And I believe that there’s a place that nobody’s been too honest with
And that our true feelings are wide enough to move continents
Drifting in and out of consciousness
Drifting in and out of self-consciousness
I can’t believe I held on to this
I can’t believe I held on to this
For real
I can’t believe I held on to this
Now I’m almost in my mid-twenties, going on nineteen
Trying on the costumes in my attic like they’re my grief
My spiderwebs and teenage box of suicide goodbye schemes
I’m trying to slow the shutter down, learn to let the light leak
My single mom is sleeping on the couch again
I see the kitchen light on late
As I pass Molly’s house again
Is love this faint for all of us?
I’ll shout until I’m out of breath
And bound to let my voice remove the youth out of my fountain pen
These are the pains that I take with the great adventure
The days that I’ve laid to rest as my age begets the potential
Of raising hell up against the invasion
Of waves they left you
And placed you in safe saving
Displaced you in case of death
You’ll never know until you live it
So get out there and live it
Get out there and break some ice
I want to see you drifting
You’ll never know until you live it
So get out there and live it
Get out there and break some ice, kid
I want to see you drifting.

Written by:
DYLAN OWEN

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find