The Bucket List
Track 7

Pete Sears

Little Umbrellas

by Deborah Grabien, Nicholas Grabien, Larry Luthi

I need a drink with umbrellas on top
And suds that smell like coconut
I'll drink it down and drink it up, and work it all September.
Your taste still lingers on my tongue
You're with the air down in my lungs
They told me when I was young that it feels good to remember

But they lied. It feels like hell inside
It hurts like burning coals
And now I need a drink of something cold
With little umbrellas.

I got my feet up on the rail,
I watch the boats out for a sail
The sun stays hot, but I'm still pale, my skin won't take the colour.
I play your memory like a harp,
until the notes begin to warp
Sometimes flat and sometimes sharp, the whole thing just gets duller

Still, we tried. And it was quite a ride.
I guess I just got old.
And now I need a drink of liquid gold
With little umbrellas.

The waitress comes by, says 'babe let me get you a drink.
A maitai? Manhattan? mojito? or the Kitchen Sink?'
Oh, what the hell, just bring them all, I want to dull the pain
I want to keep the dream with lots of heavy cream
And little umbrellas.

Sometimes when people look at me
They just see what they want to see
A list of things I'll never be: the mirror shows a stranger
Life goes on, and I should too
And yet no matter what I do
I always seem to choke on you: my clear and present danger.

So I hide. It's how I keep some pride.
It's how the dice got rolled:
You broke my heart, and so I'll break the mold
With little umbrellas

Little umbrellas
Little umbrellas
You want to drink 'em down and drink 'em up
A sense that smells like coconut
Little umbrellas
You work it all September
Little umbrellas

Lyric copyright © 2014, Deborah Grabien; all rights reserved.