Other Exercises
Crying Lightning 
Hard
by Arctic Monkeys
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
the by the cracker factory
You were practicing a 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
I haven't been called cold before
As you bit your strawberry lace
And then offered me your attention
In the form 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 love little game
You had "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The ice-cream man on afternoons
The time that I my own reflection
It was on its way to meet you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never looked yourself
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 a toothache
Stood and puffed your chest out
you'd lost a war
Although I tried so not to suffer
The indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw
And pastimes 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 of the strange
and deranged
And I hate game you had called
Crying lightning
lightning
Crying lightning
lightning
Your pastimes, consisted of the strange
And and deranged
And I that game
You had called "Crying"...
You were practicing a 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
I haven't been called cold before
As you bit your strawberry lace
And then offered me your attention
In the form 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 love little game
You had "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The ice-cream man on afternoons
The time that I my own reflection
It was on its way to meet you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never looked yourself
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 a toothache
Stood and puffed your chest out
you'd lost a war
Although I tried so not to suffer
The indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw
And pastimes 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 of the strange
and deranged
And I hate game you had called
Crying lightning
lightning
Crying lightning
lightning
Your pastimes, consisted of the strange
And and deranged
And I that game
You had called "Crying"...
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( Automatic Translation )
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