It rains underneath the umbrella now, what have you done? What spells have you spun? No more, dear, I cannot take anymore. Eternal darkness traded for pain. I want the beauty of light again. And with my hand stitched to yours, I led you to the train, and on those tracks we died, under our umbrella of blood red rain.
It's not really a nursery rhyme, it just seemed like one to me.