Letras:Cursive. The Ugly Organ. Harold Weathervein.

Harold walks down any street of this town
Both crier & witness the sun drops clouds shift
His legs twitch

The clocks chime on cafes, pharmacies, and dime stores, in bar rooms he stils all alone erupting.
Inhisbeaditsliketheweatherback&forthitsliketheweather
When it rains it pours down


Weatherman, do you feel?
Is it stormy inside of your veins?