Other Exercises
Crying Lightning 
Hard
by Arctic Monkeys
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
the by the factory
You were practicing a magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of pick and mix
So, you're if you're thinking
That I haven't been cold before
As you bit into your strawberry lace
And then me your attention
In the form of a gobstopper
It's all you had and it was going to waste
Your pastimes consisted of the strange
And and deranged
And I love that little game
You had "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The ice-cream man on rainy afternoons
The next time I my own reflection
It was on its way to you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never looked yourself
From the side but your profile
Could not hide the fact
You knew I was your throne
With folded arms you occupied
The bench like a toothache
and chest out
you'd lost a war
Although I 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 to aggravate
The icky man on afternoons
Uninviting
But not half as impossible
As everyone assumes you are
"Crying lightning"
pastimes consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game you had called
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
lightning
Crying lightning
Your pastimes, consisted of the strange
And and deranged
And I hate that little game
You had called "Crying"...
You were practicing a magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of pick and mix
So, you're if you're thinking
That I haven't been cold before
As you bit into your strawberry lace
And then me your attention
In the form of a gobstopper
It's all you had and it was going to waste
Your pastimes consisted of the strange
And and deranged
And I love that little game
You had "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The ice-cream man on rainy afternoons
The next time I my own reflection
It was on its way to you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never looked yourself
From the side but your profile
Could not hide the fact
You knew I was your throne
With folded arms you occupied
The bench like a toothache
and chest out
you'd lost a war
Although I 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 to aggravate
The icky man on afternoons
Uninviting
But not half as impossible
As everyone assumes you are
"Crying lightning"
pastimes consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game you had called
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
lightning
Crying lightning
Your pastimes, consisted of the strange
And and deranged
And I hate that little game
You had called "Crying"...
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( Automatic Translation )
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