Umbrella Lyrics

Umbrella

rain
onto my roof, into my house
under my skin
i let you in, not to stay
but today i've not the energy
to walk you to the door.

rain
a new name and face
but that old awkward place
between feeling whole
and feeling without what i knew
nothing scares me like something new
much like the rain and you;
unwanted guests
what can i do?

rain
i answer the door
umbrella in hand
won't hide anymore
i see no place for you
you are old, i am new
and today
i think i'll go right through.

soaked to the bone
happily alone
a comfortable throne
a good view of the road

rain rain rain

rain rain go away, come again another day
rain rain go away, come again another day, hey.

Ammunition

i can't change where you're going
and you can't change where you've been
but your anger is not ammunition with which to fight
and it's killing her night after night.

i can't change how you raised her
and now she is out on her own
you can clip her wings and keep her at your doorstep
or watch her fly, and embrace her from home

when your eyes ignite and you find only words of spite
then the choice is most yours.
does she know just what you're thinking,
or only hear what you say?
hey hey hey.

i won't preach my ideas
for the reparations are yours and not mine
but your anger is not ammunition with which to fight
and you're running out of time

when your eyes ignite and you find only words of spite
then the choice is most yours.
does she know just what you're thinking,
or only hear what you say?
hey hey hey.

Tangerine

tangerine, swaying from the tree
beckoning idly, the soft windy sound of the leaves that abound
when you fall to the ground.

tangerine, luring and free
beckoning just within sight and just out of reach
hiding answers like ballroom dancers
waltzing under a leaf canopy.

tangerine, random and careless and fallen from grace
life's a reluctant race, scattered in the damp grass
and the summer days pass, your color breaking like glass.

tangerine, faded forgotten misshapen lost
not worth grocery store cost and you're bound to the soil
as you wither and spoil and your splendor is lost.

She Said

"the days go by," she said
"then zoom, zoom, zoom
time doesn't wait for fears to subside."

"we waste our words," she said
"until they're barely heard
complain of things we've yet to gain
or a delay on the plane
or being caught in the rain"

"but now," she said, "just rest your weary head
when you're my age, you might just love this place."

"we can't wait to grow," she said
"until we look too old
conceal these beautiful lines of age.

we set our sights on
new dreams to buy
souvenirs seem more important
than the ride."

she said, "you silly thing, you create your suffering!
when you're like me, you will gasp at how
beautiful the world can be.
how beautiful the world can be.
how beautiful the world can be."

Italy

if you go away today on an airplane to italy
i will have to find someone who will comfort and pity me
pity me

if you leave today the breeze will take you farther than i please
and i will have to lock my house so you can't get back in
i'll change my keys

if you go today i know you won't be back from italy
i will have to find myself a place that's just for me
a new city

if you fly away then i won't follow you to italy
even if it takes a million years for you to visit me
visit me

Disguise

i am sick and i am tired
persecuted by your unkind words
i am merely a minimum
mediocre because of your standards

i am beautiful but not a rare jewel
disappointed to embrace this burden truth
and before, i did not question or argue
i just tried and tried to be enough for you.

so tell me if you are ever going to change
or hide behind your words until they fall into place
you're nothing past the disguise.

tell me, are you strong enough to change?
cause otherwise i'm going to a much better place
you're nothing past the disguise.

Company

this time of year can be surprisingly ugly, deceivingly ugly
when not blanketed in white
the dead trees and lack of light
cars in the street

when i drive around, my muffler drowns out the sound of the radio
oh, what do they know
singing songs of love and blues
all the same chords overused
oh my mind's so abused by mad, uncharacteristically sad thoughts
this afternoon.

and the snow turns to slush
the gray sky in no rush
to leave my company.

oh i find myself parked outside your apartment;
will you come out driving with me?

i just cleared out a seat for you, but please don't look in the backseat
we can talk about the year, or the jobs we're thinking of quitting
oh, and if we get tired of sitting
we can park and walk a ways
look for signs of spring
and then retire to my livingroom.

and the snow turns to slush
the gray sky in no rush
to leave my company

and the pattern of sounds
as we drive around town
thank you for your company.

Diningroom Table

walking around the ruins, with poor mr. davis
thinking that we might find something to salvage
knowing that the hunger of the fire did not spare
anything at all, anything at all except
his diningroom table, his diningroom table, his diningroom table.

gravity pulls us down, looking around with mr. davis
i try not to look devastated, though it would be an understatement
quietly he kneels, his body begins shaking
crying like a child, crying like a child, he cries
"my diningroom table, my diningroom table, my diningroom table!"

and then, when i expected him to break
he looks at me with eyes wide away
and confidently whispers, "it's okay."

walking around the ruins, with poor mr. davis
carrying the table from the mess, and stepping away
his face newly painted with ideas and resilience
he says, "i can buy new chairs! i can buy new chairs for
my diningroom table, my diningroom table, my diningroom table."

Green Street Bar

a run in her fishnet stockings
hoops swaying from her ears
dancing the way the business taught her to
a swinger a singer a dancer romance her
it's easy to do

across the bar cigar in hand, hat on the stand
a deadpan poker quiet man, betting his savings
letting go of his wife-and-child money, they'll never come back
he's been offtrack for years
he picks up the slack and gambles his fears
(and lonely divorce tears)
he bets a grand
and shows his hand.

and i watch all these people in the green street bar
social masks and whiskey flasks
give a name at the door, let your shirt collar loose
till you hear the siren of police cars!
the scene to be seen in;
a crowd so lonely they could cry.

a mother of two, mistress of three
earning the money shamefully
she comes into work, her boss is a jerk
the days blur together like watercolors!
she hates herself.
kids at the daycare, a wallet of welfare
a dozen men staring
at how little she's wearing
and she's nearly done caring.

Poor Logic

there's nothing wrong with doing nothing
if that's what you choose to do
though i find it poor logic to whine;
your boredom didn't choose you.

lyrics by my wonderful sister, emma o'brien

Beautiful

beautiful
she's beautiful
shades of gray in her eyes
cellulite behind her thighs.
and all the rumors she never denies
(or complies to)
..that must make them true.

her words are spoken like a storybook
no one seems to give a second look
we didn't plan to build a wall, but there it stood
it's no good, we know, but we might as well
since we don't offer "hellos" to anyone at all anymore
our old faade goes crashing to the floor
we attempt to be independent and isolated
so lonely that we make her feel degraded
and she's not the only one we alienate!
oh, isn't it great?
how no one reciprocates?

i love how we try so hard to be the same
if someone different should come along,
they are to blame.
if i weren't so brainwashed, i think i'd feel ashamed
of our system of closed doors
embracing each other is a neglected chore
perhaps what i'd feel most ashamed of
is how i know:

that if she were here first,
then we'd all be
reversed.

beautiful
she's beautiful
shades of gray in her eyes
cellulite behind her thighs
wearing openly the flaws we try to hide.
we disguise, we minimize, we patronize, we generalize
we ostracize.we don't realize

she's beautiful beautiful beautiful.

Smiles and Prices

i picture you talking to yourself
behind a mahogany desk
in some building where people dress too nice
and they're wearing
smiles and prices and smiles and prices
smiles and prices and smiles and prices and smiles
you think, "they're all so nice today,
if only they knew my name!
god forbid there be a change…
and i should feel good again."

you work and spend
you bend and bend and you bend
try and comprehend the formulas given
for money, success
sixty hours a week is happiness?
and oh how it matters;
why's it matter?
you once had all these dreams, i remember
ripped at the seams.
you left them all behind.
…oh, you left us all behind.

you firm your tie
you'd rather die than be late
to a six a.m. date
and a spilled cup of coffee
and traffic and swearing
lonely wife on the phone
your child's TV blaring
but you're empowered, by the sour taste of stress
and you like the way your boss makes your dress
and you like being home less and less
and you like the fake formal way that you're always addressed.
…oh, your money has run your mind bankrupt
is my guess.

so here's to you, it's picturesque
you trapped in that mahogany desk
and you get no calls, you make no friends
and you drive home stiffly when the long shift ends
in that building where people dress too nice
they're all wearing
smiles and prices and smiles and prices
smiles and prices and smiles and prices and smiles
you think, "they're all so nice… to me.
sometimes i wish they'd be mean!
god forbid we should have feelings!

…and i should feel good again."

All My Troubles are Bubbles

all my troubles are bubbles
floating away into oblivion
my troubles are bubbles far gone

and in the morning, i find myself singing
they ask, "why are you singing?"
i'm just singing so there will be song
for my troubles are bubbles far gone.

it won't be long, 'til we can sleep.
it won't be long, 'til we can sleep.

dreams are not to keep; they are to dream
so close your eyes, and i'll sing sweetly
'til they come, come, come, come, come, come out.

all our worries, they are bubbles
catching the breeze, over the trees
we cannot feel them.

and in the nighttime
we take a walk, singing
yeah, out in the night, singing
yeah just singing so there will be song.
for our troubles are bubbles far gone.

and things might go different
but nothing goes wrong,
for our troubles are bubbles far gone.

it won't be long, 'til we can sleep.
it won't be long, 'til we can sleep.

dreams are not to keep; they are to dream
so close your eyes, and i'll sing sweetly
'til they come, come, come, come, come, come out.