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There once was a boy

So alone in his flight

That he took off his wings

And fell into the night

Met a girl with no shoes

At the Last Dance of Hope

Said "If you bring the footstool,

Honey, I`ll bring the rope."

So they hung... all their clothes

In a house on a hill

He went on the wagon.

She went off the pill.

And they went to the chapel

In the way lovers will

Beneath a battered umbrella.

Just a battered umbrella.



Well the two became one

And the one became three

Everything they had done

Vanished from memory

He changed the diapers.

She made the bed

In their own private Eden

That was all in their heads

And they saw to their child

And they saw to their cares

Put their dreams all in boxes

‘Neath the old basement downstairs

When the hurricane hit

They were caught unawares

With a battered umbrella.

Just a battered umbrella.



But she wasn`t his mother;

Couldn`t scratch every itch

And he wasn`t her father,

Just a son of a bitch

They began to see failings.

They began to find fault.

Spent his nights at the Owl Club.

Hers with religious cults.

In the mornings her feet

Felt an ache to be shod

Over supper he`d peek

At the sky, sigh and nod

Left the kid in a corner

With no shelter but God

And a battered umbrella.

Dirty, battered umbrella.



Now there`s a boy

With no wings and no prayer

With no means to employ

To escape anywhere

First he lived with his mother.

Then he lived with his dad.

When they all lived together

It had not seemed so bad

But they said, "It`s no use, son.

We`d shatter the night."

Yet they both lived inside him,

Where they got on all right.

He`d go out of his mind

When they couldn`t unite

Beneath his battered umbrella.

Holy, battered umbrella.

There once was a boy

So alone in his flight

That he took off his wings

And fell into the night

Met a girl with no shoes

At the Last Dance of Hope

Said "If you bring the footstool,

Honey, I`ll bring the rope."

So they hung... all their clothes

In a house on a hill

He went on the wagon.

She went off the pill.

And they went to the chapel

In the way lovers will

Beneath a battered umbrella.

Just a battered umbrella.



Well the two became one

And the one became three

Everything they had done

Vanished from memory

He changed the diapers.

She made the bed

In their own private Eden

That was all in their heads

And they saw to their child

And they saw to their cares

Put their dreams all in boxes

‘Neath the old basement downstairs

When the hurricane hit

They were caught unawares

With a battered umbrella.

Just a battered umbrella.



But she wasn`t his mother;

Couldn`t scratch every itch

And he wasn`t her father,

Just a son of a bitch

They began to see failings.

They began to find fault.

Spent his nights at the Owl Club.

Hers with religious cults.

In the mornings her feet

Felt an ache to be shod

Over supper he`d peek

At the sky, sigh and nod

Left the kid in a corner

With no shelter but God

And a battered umbrella.

Dirty, battered umbrella.



Now there`s a boy

With no wings and no prayer

With no means to employ

To escape anywhere

First he lived with his mother.

Then he lived with his dad.

When they all lived together

It had not seemed so bad

But they said, "It`s no use, son.

We`d shatter the night."

Yet they both lived inside him,

Where they got on all right.

He`d go out of his mind

When they couldn`t unite

Beneath his battered umbrella.

Holy, battered umbrella.

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