Other Exercises
Crying Lightning
Hard
by Arctic Monkeys
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
the cafe by the cracker factory
You practicing a magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of your pick and mix
So, you're mistaken if you're thinking
That I haven't been called cold before
As you bit your strawberry lace
And offered me your attention
In the of a gobstopper
It's all you had left and it was going to waste
consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I that little game
You had called "Crying lightning"
And how you to aggravate
The ice-cream man on afternoons
The next time I my own reflection
It was on its way to meet you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never looked yourself
From the side but your profile
Could not hide the fact
You I was approaching your throne
folded arms you occupied
The like a toothache
Stood and puffed your chest out
you'd never lost a war
Although I so not to suffer
The of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw
And your consisted of the strange
And 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 assumes you are
"Crying lightning"
Your consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate that game you had called
lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Your pastimes, consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate little game
You had "Crying"...
You practicing a magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of your pick and mix
So, you're mistaken if you're thinking
That I haven't been called cold before
As you bit your strawberry lace
And offered me your attention
In the of a gobstopper
It's all you had left and it was going to waste
consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I that little game
You had called "Crying lightning"
And how you to aggravate
The ice-cream man on afternoons
The next time I my own reflection
It was on its way to meet you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never looked yourself
From the side but your profile
Could not hide the fact
You I was approaching your throne
folded arms you occupied
The like a toothache
Stood and puffed your chest out
you'd never lost a war
Although I so not to suffer
The of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw
And your consisted of the strange
And 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 assumes you are
"Crying lightning"
Your consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate that game you had called
lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Your pastimes, consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate little game
You had "Crying"...
Click any word to get definition.
( Automatic Translation )
Con tecnología de Microsoft® Translator

