Cliché Paroles

Played by the master race



Those faceless moneymen

Yeah, you're probably one of them

Hear their endless muzak tune

That plays on and on



And when the bullshit happy choir

Greets another grim day

When the angels swim to our aid
While we hide from our barren end

The advertisers pretend

That the world is as they say

Well, here comes another cliché