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 a magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of pick and mix
So, you're mistaken if you're thinking
That I haven't called 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
Your pastimes consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I love that game
You had called "Crying lightning"
And how you 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 looked yourself
From the but your profile
not hide the fact
You I was throne
With arms you occupied
The bench like a toothache
Stood and puffed your chest out
Like you'd lost a war
Although I tried so not to suffer
The of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or to claw
And your pastimes of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game
You had "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 pastimes consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate little game you had called
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
pastimes, of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate little game
You had called "Crying"...
You were a magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of pick and mix
So, you're mistaken if you're thinking
That I haven't called 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
Your pastimes consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I love that game
You had called "Crying lightning"
And how you 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 looked yourself
From the but your profile
not hide the fact
You I was throne
With arms you occupied
The bench like a toothache
Stood and puffed your chest out
Like you'd lost a war
Although I tried so not to suffer
The of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or to claw
And your pastimes of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game
You had "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 pastimes consisted of the strange
Twisted and deranged
And I hate little game you had called
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
Crying lightning
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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