I rise in war with walls held tight, or built from pillows late at night. Both strong and soft, I serve the same, a place of shelter is my aim.

I became atheist, yet I'm always in dreams Flickering inside a trap of soft and hard But I suppose I could also be a girl if I start from zero But again, I guess I'm all three

That which leads to spillways, half a strike's score, away from alleyways, otherwise Penniwise.

I drip from the sky with a pitter-pat song, I help flowers grow and grass nice and long.

What two things can you never eat for breakfast?