[Verse 1] Bat-wing umbrella. Yellow raincoat, rain boots on. Purple school satchel. They say there are no grown-ups left who scold you. Scold someone and you get scolded back. That raincoat from a moment ago got blown away by a truck—poon. A world where horses and deer now run wild. [Pre-Chorus] I thought I was looking down from up above, but I looked up and met the same face, the same stare. Turns out I became a horse. Or a deer. [Chorus] But listen— stand up to it and they’ll make a blood feast of you. It’s unfair, isn’t it? And there’s no fixing it. So I chose to stay quiet and become a horse. Or a deer. If I had to choose, maybe a horse is better. …Did you just call me an idiot? [Verse 2] Vinyl umbrella. A little crushed, sure, but I can’t afford a decent one. Look at the tax rate. Stolen every time I step outside— I’d have to put “umbrella” under expenses. Kasa piling up. [Pre-Chorus] I thought I was looking down from up above, but I looked up and met the same face, the same stare. Turns out I became a horse. Or a deer. [Chorus] Hey, listen— I picked up a cicada shell. Translucent. Pretty. They die after seven days— because the world was made in a week? Still, I’m a horse. Or a deer. [Bridge] Folding umbrellas are crude; their ribs just snap. On a day of heavy rain they turn inside out. Useless. That was the bat-wing umbrella I saw once. Ah— a truck. [Final Chorus] Even if you keep every promise, in the blink of an eye—ah, well. The horse got kicked by the deer and died.
