My Cliché

I type at will?
Knobby nose
Take my pillow when I'm well
Ain't I nice?
You see it's mind over meal
And it's trying still

If you're trying for me
Maybe you could try
And listen to my cliché
And I said you
You got these pictures

You know them each as each other
'Cause I'm kind of ashamed
To be leaving all I've gained
Here she be leaving me nice
Way beyond this sacrifice
My cliché

Bring me a vodka on ice
Even I can't pay that price
I've got these pictures of you
Being nice at the same time
My cliché

I've been talking to you
And I've been talking to you
Quick there goes my mind
Dry bones and blisters
It's these little things, little things
That made me cry

Leave me at will
It's these little things we all feel
I've got something to say
And it will not go away
My cliché