For a master of deception and subterfuge
You've made yourself quite the bed to lie in
Do your time travelin' through the tannin' booth
So you don't let the sun catch you cryin'

So predictable, I know what you're thinkin'

My teeth are beatin' and my knees are weak
It's as if there's somethin' up with the wirin'
You can poke your head behind the mountain peak
Don't have to mean that you've gone into hidin'

So predictable, I know what you're thinkin'

I'm watchin' your every move
I feel the tears are comin' on
It won't be long
It won't be long
Straight from the cover shoot
Still a trace of body paint
On your legs and on your arms and on your face
And I'm keepin' on my costume
And callin' it a writin' tool
And if you're thinkin' of me
I'm probably thinkin' of you

There's still a trace of body paint
On your legs and on your arms and on your face
There's still a trace of body paint
On your legs and on your arms and on your face
There's still a trace of body paint
On your legs and on your arms and on your face
There's still a trace of body paint
On your legs and on your arms and on your face

So predictable, I know what you're thinkin'

Ooh, ha
Yeah
Yeah

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Alex Turner