Down the Hill and up the Lane
With a roof made of thunder and window panes
Made of lightening, brightening again and again
Where the little girl lived in the house of rain.
And the men in suits came again and again
And said “You should sell, you’ve much to gain!”
But she smiled and shook her head the same
Saying “I’m the one who waters the grain
of truth that grows from the dusty plain".”
Said the little girl who lived in the house of rain.