Other Exercises
Crying Lightning 
Hard
by Arctic Monkeys
Fill In the blanks, then press Score to check your answers
Outside the cafe by the cracker factory
You were practicing a trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you and chewed
On the last of your pick and mix
So, you're if you're thinking
That I haven't called 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 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 "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The ice-cream man on afternoons
The next time that I my own reflection
It was on its way to you
Thinking of to postpone
You looked 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 a toothache
and puffed your chest out
Like you'd never 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 consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game
You had "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The man on rainy afternoons
Uninviting
But not half as impossible
As assumes you are
"Crying lightning"
Your pastimes consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game you had called
lightning
Crying lightning
lightning
Crying lightning
Your pastimes, of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate little game
You had called "Crying"...
You were practicing a trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you and chewed
On the last of your pick and mix
So, you're if you're thinking
That I haven't called 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 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 "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The ice-cream man on afternoons
The next time that I my own reflection
It was on its way to you
Thinking of to postpone
You looked 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 a toothache
and puffed your chest out
Like you'd never 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 consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game
You had "Crying lightning"
And how you liked to aggravate
The man on rainy afternoons
Uninviting
But not half as impossible
As assumes you are
"Crying lightning"
Your pastimes consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game you had called
lightning
Crying lightning
lightning
Crying lightning
Your pastimes, of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate little game
You had called "Crying"...
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( Automatic Translation )
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