We're not the cliche of a broken record stuck on the same one line.

We're not the cliche of a fourth grade arm cast signed by everybody and nobody you know.

We're not the cliche of a dandelion being blown to fragments by the wind before your lips ever got the chance.

My dad always told me that to be cliche would be the worst thing to happen in life.

But then he left me
and you did too,

so it's no surprise that we became the cliche of whiskey running down my throat because it burns less than your hands ever did.