Crying Lightning, by the Artic Monkeys. I dunno, I just love the words to this song. The whole song's in the spoiler, but this is my favourite bit:
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
That you knew I was approaching yout throne
With folded arms, you occupied the bench like toothache,
Stood and puffed your chest out like you 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
<spoiler= Lyrics>Outside the cafe by the cracker factory,
You were practising 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 think I haven't been called cold before,
As you bit into your strawberry lace
Then a flip in 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,
The twisted and deranged
And I loved that little game you had called
Crying lightning
And how you loved to aggravate the icecream 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
That you knew I was approaching yout throne
With folded arms, you occupied the bench like toothache,
Stood and puffed your chest out like you 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 you loved to aggravate the icky man on rainy afternoons
Uninviting
But not half as impossible as everyone says 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,
Cry-ing.