Cliché

Oh it's so cliché

Oh it's so cliché

Cliché

Cast in gold

Your heart's so cold

Eyes once passionate were dead sea scrolls of shame

A rose by another name wasn't the same

Picks and bones and

Glass house stones

Vows both imminent and threadbare so when I sing

I shout

But the words never make it out

Oh it's so cliché

To look and act the same

Oh it's so cliché in the vision of everyone

To look and act the same when we were so different

Bless my soul

Mallards in a row

Nights endeavoring the fair-hand folk arise

Girls who should realize, better than I

Such typical

Whims of the fall

All were the wrong thing

Well I sing

I shout

But the words never make it out

Oh it's so cliché

Well I sing, I shout

Well I sing, I shout

Well I sing, I shout

Well I sing, I shout

But the words never make it out

Oh it's so cliché

To look and act the same

Oh it's so cliché in the vision of everyone

To look and act the same when we were so different

Oh it's so cliché in the vision of everyone

To look and act the same when we were so different