Arctic Monkeys - Crying Lightning

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I sat in the cafe by the cracker factory

You were practicing a magic trick

And my thoughts got rude,

As you talked and chewed

On the last of your pick and mix

Said your mistaken if your thinking that

I haven't been caught cold before

As you bit into your strawberry lace

And then a flip in your attention in the form of a gobstopper

Is all you have left and it was going to waste

Your past-times, consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I love that little game you had called

Crying lightning

And how you like to aggravate

The ice-cream man on rainy afternoons

The next time that I caught my own reflection

It was on it's way to meet you

Thinking of excuses to postpone

You never look like yourself from the side

But your profile did not hide

The fact you knew I was approaching your throne

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache

Saw them, puff your chest out like you never lost a war

And though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction

There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw

And your past-times, consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called

Crying lightning

And how you like to aggravate

The icky man on rainy afternoons

Uninviting

But not half as impossible as everyone assumes

You are crying lightning

Your past-times, consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called

Crying lightning

Crying lightning

Crying lightning

Crying lightning

Your past-times, consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called

Crying