Crying Lightning

Complete change of pace. Something I've never addressed on this blog before, but I've been feeling this way a bit lately. This song turns me on something chronic. The dirty sound, the visuals in the lyrics, the rhythm and flow, the breath-y singing, the allusions to something sinister and sexy, even though the lyrics don't totally match. Yep, that'll pretty much do it for me.

Sat in the café by the cracker factory
We were practicing our magic trick
And my thoughts got rude
As you talked and chewed
On the last of your pick and mix
Said your mistaken if you thinking that I am gun' go cold before
As you bit into your strawberry lace,
And then a flip in your attention in the form of a gobstopper,
Is all you have left and all is going to waste

Your past times
Consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I love 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 it's way to meet you
Thinking of excuses to postpone
You never look like yourself from the side
But your profile did not hide,
The fact you knew I was approaching your throne.

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache
Saw them, puff your chest out like you never lost a war
And though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp, no 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 have as impossible as everyone assumes
You are Crying Lightning

Your past times
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 past times
Consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I hate that little game you had called
Crying

Arctic Monkeys

Over to you, any songs that just get to you?