Harold Weathervein
author: 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
inhisheaditsliketheweatherback&forthhitsliketheweather
when it rains it pours down
weatherman, do you feel?
is it stormy inside of your veins?
Other songs by Cursive:
The Game Of Who Needs Who The Worst
Art Is Hard
Dedication To Desertion
Excerpts From Random Notes Strewn Across The Floor
Sierra
The Rhyme Scheme