Sat in the cafe by the cracker factory,
He were practising a 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.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Arctic Monkeys
RandomAquí escribiré algunos fragmentos de canciones de Arctic Monkeys para todos los que conozcan al grupo o a los que les interese.
