Afro Department - Umbrella

You squeak when you open like you're trying to complain.
I should leave you on a park bench, let a stranger carry.
But I drag you to the doorway, then I change my mind again.
'Cause you're my leftover umbrella in July,
Waiting on a forecast that won't arrive.
I keep walking under perfect skies,
Still I can't throw you away, can't throw you away.