Sat in the cafe by the cracker factory,
You were practicing a magic trick,
And my thoughts got rued as you talked and chewed,
On the last of your pic and mix.

I said your mistaken if your thinking that i have been caught cold before,
As you bit into your strawberry lace,
And then i ????? your attention in the form of a gobstopper,
Is all you had left, and it was going to waste.

Your past-times consisted of the strange,
And twisted and arranged,
And I love that little game you have called, crying lightning
And how you like to aggravate the ice-cream and on rainy afternoons...

The next time that i caught my own reflection it was on its way to meet you,
Thinking of excuses to postpone.
You never look like yourself from the side,
But your profile does not hide the fact you knew i was approaching your throne.

With folded arms you walked aside the bench like toothache,
Saw them puff your chest out like you'd never lost a war,
And though i tried not to talk for the indignity of a reaction,
There was not cracks to grasp, or gaps to claw.

And your past-times consisted of the strange,
And twisted and arranged,
And I hate that little game you have called, crying lightning,
And how you like to aggravate the icky man (?) on rainy afternoons.

Uninviting, but none of us impossible as everyone assumes you are,
Crying Lightning!

Your past-times consisted of the strange,
And twisted and arranged,
I hate that little game you have called ;
Crying lightning, Crying lightning,Crying lightning, Crying lightning

Your past-times consisted of the strange,
and twisted and arranged,
And I hate that little game you have called, Crying.....

Crying Lightning by Arctic Monkeys

Wow - that is cool! Like all of them, but the last one is exceptional! lookagain · 2009-06-24: 08:29

Tagged: brunswick lightning