Harold Weathervein - Cursive
Harold walks down any street of this town
Both crier and witness the sun drops the clouds shift
His legs twitch
The clocks chime on the cafes pharmacies and dime
Stores in bar rooms he sits still all alone erupting
In his head it's like the weather
Back and forth hits like the weather
When it rains it pours down
Weatherman do you feel
Is it stormy inside of your veins
