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Usa A− / A+ para ajustar el tamañoCrying Lightning
Outside the cafe, by the cracker factoryYou were practicing a magic trickAnd my thoughts got rudeAs you talked and chewedOn the last of your pick and mixSaid: "you're mistakenIf you're thinking thatI haven't been called "cold" before"As you bit into your strawberry laceAnd then a flip of your attentionIn the form of a gobstopperIt's all you had left and it was going to wasteYour pastimes consisted of the strangeAnd twisted and derangedAnd I loved that little game you had called"Crying lightning"And how you liked to aggravateThe ice-cream man on rainy afternoonsThe next time that I caught my own reflectionIt was on its way to meet youThinking of excuses to postponeYou never looked like yourself from the sideBut your profile could not hideThe fact you knewI was approaching your throneWith folded arms you occupied the bench like toothacheStood and puffed your chest outLike you'd never lost a warAnd though I tried so not to sufferThe indignity of a reactionThere was no cracks to graspOr gaps to clawAnd your pastimes consisted of the strangeAnd twisted and derangedAnd I hate that little game you had called"Crying lightning"And how you liked to aggravateThe icky man on rainy afternoonsUninvitingBut not half as impossible as everyone assumesYou areCrying lightningYour pastimes consisted of the strangeTwisted and derangedAnd I hate that little game you had called"Crying lightning"Crying lightningCrying lightningCrying lightningYour pastimes consisted of the strangeAnd twisted and derangeAnd I hate that little game you had calledCrying
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