Umbrella Hat

There's a shooting star under my umbrella
I'll make a wish as it rockets by my head
There's a man sticking out his tongue
He's so old he's growing young
The world is slipping slowly through his hands

They look at me like I'm already dead
And all those big ideas that filled my head
In time have grown

I'm seeing stars at night when I close my eyes
And all the Sigmund Freuds sit back and analyze
Everything I say and do could be happening to you
A subtle brainstorm clouds my eyes

They look at me like I'm already dead
And all thosе big ideas that filled my head
In timе have grown

For every perfect day, there will be ten that rot
But maybe perfect days are all we've got

There's a shooting star under my umbrella
Maybe I can catch and not get burned
My last chance, hopes, and dreams
Are breaking at the seams
But I know my conviction remains strong
Even as I watch them write me off

They look at me like I'm already dead
And all those big ideas that filled my head
In time have grown

For every perfect day, there will be ten that rot
But maybe perfect days are all we've got