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 a flip of your attention In the form of a gobstopper It's all you had left and it was going to waste Your pastimes consisted of the strange And twisted and deranged And I loved that little game you had called "Crying lightning" And how you liked to aggravate The ice-cream man 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 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'd 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 liked to aggravate The icky man on rainy afternoons Uninviting But not half as impossible as everyone assumes You are Crying lightning Your pastimes consisted of the strange 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 derange And I hate that little game you had called Crying
