Still the crying hurts in your head Well you're still beneath my feet Here I sit at Mary Ann's place Oh baby the rain is always pouring when I'm here Saw the lightning caught your stone Oh maybe the angels of tomorrow will let me go Well oh God don't

Crying lightning And twisted and deranged Your past-times, consisted of the strange And I hate that little game you had called Outside the cafe by the cracker factory You were practicing a magic trick And my thoughts got rude, as you talked and chewed On