Lyrics

He’s got a truck and a tattoo, calls me baby girl,
Talks about his ex like she wrecked his world.
Says he’s not like the other guys, okay…
Funny how they all start out that way.

I know the signs, still I play along
Now I've fallen for another Mr. wrong

Well he swept me away in his new Chevrolet
He's a sweet-talkin' boy with nothin’ to say.
He's a stereotype with some beautiful eyes
Struttin' his stuff in them tight Levis
Here comes his I'm sorry bouquet
Oh my god, I'm datin'...a cliché

Leaves Axe cologne on my pillow again,
Says I'll call you tomorrow then hangs with his friends
He throws me sweet-talk I almost believe,
But I’ve seen that trick up too many sleeves.

I'll laugh it off, when he's finally gone
And start to write a new breakup song

Chorus

If I had a nickel for every cliché that I find
I could buy me a clue and get on with my life
So here's to the girls who have learned in dismay
That maybe perhaps we too are clichés