Almost everything we say
Seems to be a bit cliche'
Like practise makes perfect all the time
And out of sight, out of mind
Too many cooks spoil the brew
And what you do to others comes back to you.
Nobody likes a cry baby
No ifs, ands, buts or maybes.
These are just a few cliche's,
And here's some others we all say:
God bless the child who has his own.
No place like home sweet home.
He that fights and runs away
Lives to fight another day
What goes up must come down
What goes around comes around
Give me liberty, or give me death.
And you aint seen nothing yet.
The harder they come,the harder they fall
Keep your eyes on the ball
A small axe cut down big trees
And the best things in life are free
I could just go on and on
Probably until early morn
But I think my point is made
That our words are all cliche's