The Cliche Songtext
von Sweet Jonny

Behind a set of milky eyes he′s eyeing up another drink still.
I said the smoke inside the room's so thick
You cannot breath the air now.
A corset in the closet′s no fun.
Pull it on.
Pull it off.

He claims he's dancing with the devil
Though you know he's never seen one.
Sell your soul to rock and roll you′re a paedophile in jail now.
Put a bullet down your veins.
I′m the cliché blow my brains.
Blow my brains.


He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.

Welcome to your personal hell.

String me out upon a lie I'm the substance you′ll abuse now.
Sure you're into nihilism if you only knew what for though.
Good golly miss Molly shoot yourself and your honey load up.
You have to think about, think about, think about doing a line.
Say you wanna, say you wanna, say you wanna, wanna get so high.
Send a bullet down your veins.
I′m the cliché blow my brains.
Blow my brains.


He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.

He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
He gets paid,
Bored,
Drunk, fucked and blown.
Welcome to your personal hell.
Welcome to your personal hell.