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-and-mix

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

As you bit into your strawberry lace

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 loved that little game you had called

Crying Lightning

And how you liked 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 pastimes consisted 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 consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called

Crying Lightning

Crying lightning

Crying lightning

Crying lightning

Your pastimes consisted of the strange

And twisted and deranged

And I hate that little game you had called

Crying