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Arctic Monkeys - Crying Lightning
...3,
2,
1
Outside
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
You're
mistaken
if
you're
thinking
that
I
haven't
been
called
cold
before
As
you
bit
into
your
strawberry
lace
And
then
offered
me
your
attention
in
the
form
of
a
gobstopper
Is
all
you
had
left
and
it
was
going
to
waste
Your
pastimes
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
...3,
2,
1
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
looked
like
yourself
from
the
side
But
your
profile
could
not
hide
The
fact
you
knew
I
was
approaching
your
throne
With
folded
arms
you
occupied
the
bench
like
toothache
Stood
and
puffed
your
chest
out
like
you
never
lost
a
war
And
though
I
tried
so
not
to
suffer
the
indignity
of
a
reaction
There
was
no
cracks
to
grasp
or
gaps
to
claw
And
your
pastimes
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
...3,
2,
1
And
your
pastimes
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
pastimes
consisted
of
the
strange
And
twisted
and
deranged
And
I
hate
that
little
game
you
had
called
Crying
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