Outside the café by the cracker factory

You were practicing a magic trick

And my thoughts got rude

As you talked and chewed

On the last of your pick'n'mix

Said, "You're mistaken if you're thinking that I haven't been called 'cold' before"

As you bit into your strawberry lace

And offered me your attention in the form of a gobstopper

It's all you had left and it was going to waste

Your past times consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I loved that little game you had called "Crying Lightning"

And how you like 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 never looked like 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 toothache

Stood and puffed your chest out like you'd never lost a war

And though I tried so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction

There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw

And your past times consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called "Crying Lightning"

And how you like to aggravate the icky man on rainy afternoons

Uninviting

But not half as impossible as everyone assumes

You are crying lightning

Your past times consisted of the strange

Twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called "Crying Lightning"

"Crying Lightning"

"Crying Lightning"

"Crying Lightning"

Your past times consisted of the strange,

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called "Crying..."