text: Outside the cafe 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, Youre mistaken if youre thinking
  That I havent been called cold before
  As you bit into your strawberry lace
  And then offered me your attention in the form of a gobstopper
  Its 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 called Crying Lightning
  And how youd 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 youd never lost a war
  And though I tried so not to suffer the indignity of 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 youd like 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