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I hear pounding feet in the streets below and the women crying and the children know that there's something wrong and it's hard to believe that love will prevail oh it won't rain all the time the sky won't fall forever and though the night seems long your tears won't fall forever

-Jane Siberry

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I Hear Pounding Feet In The Streets

Jane Siberry

I hear pounding feet in the streets below and the women crying and the children know that there's something wrong and it's hard to believe that love will prevail oh it won't rain all the time the sky won't fall forever and though the night seems long your tears won't fall forever

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<blockquote style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; border-left: 4px solid #8b5cf6; padding-left: 15px; margin: 20px 0; background: #f9f9f9; padding: 15px; border-radius: 4px; color: #333;">
    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"i hear pounding feet in the streets below and the women crying and the children know that there&#039;s something wrong and it&#039;s hard to believe that love will prevail oh it won&#039;t rain all the time the sky won&#039;t fall forever and though the night seems long your tears won&#039;t fall forever"</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Jane Siberry</footer>
    <p style="margin-top: 15px; font-size: 0.85rem;"><a href="https://pjdigitalmarketing.com/quote/i-hear-pounding-feet-in-the-streets-below-and-the-women-crying-drxhs" style="color: #8b5cf6; text-decoration: none;">View this quote on Pjdigitalmarketing.com</a></p>
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Topic

Song Children Rain

More From Jane Siberry

And what does the rain say at night in a small town, what does the rain have to say? who walks beneath dripping melancholy branches listening to the rain? who is there in the rain’s million-needled blurring splash, listening to the grave music of the rain at night, september rain, september rain, so dark and soft? who is there listening to steady level roaring rain all around, brooding and listening and waiting, in the rain-washed, rain-twinkled dark of night?

I was born with the wrong sign in the wrong house with the wrong ascendancy i took the wrong road that led to the wrong tendencies i was in the wrong place at the wrong time for the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme on the wrong day of the wrong week used the wrong method with the wrong technique wrong wrong.

Let the rain kiss you. let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. let the rain sing you a lullaby. the rain makes still pools on the sidewalk. the rain makes running pools in the gutter. the rain plays a little sellp-song on our roof at night- and i love the rain.

There is a kind of crying i hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.

My childhood is streets upon streets upon streets upon streets. streets to define you and streets to confine you, with no sign of motorway, freeway or highway.

Then i noticed that my shadow was crying too, shedding clear, sharp shadow tears. have you ever seen the shadows of tears, mr. wind-up bird? they’re nothing like ordinary shadows. nothing at all. they come here from some other, distant world, especially for our hearts. or maybe not. it struck me then that the tears my shadow was shedding might be the real thing, and the tears that i was shedding were just shadows. you don’t get it, i’m sure, mr. wind-up bird. when a naked seventeen-year-old girl is shedding tears in the moonlight, anything can happen. it’s true.

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