Land Of Clichés

I know of a land just like this one
  And I will describe it to you
Like this one in every detail
  But of its clichés are true

In ignorance people are living
  Forsaken and forlorn
For clichés have robbed them of knowledge
  They don't even know that they're born

Their days don't have twenty-four hours
  Life shortened because as they say
If ever you keep them long waiting
  "You know that I don't have all day"

Lovers' Lane there is always quite empty
  For those who would seek it can't find
For what they say always is true there
  And literally love is blind

When Marcel Marceau's on the stage there
  The audiences flock there in herds
But all of them have to wear ear plugs
  For actions speak louder than words

I saw a man throwing his knife there
  At a clock, with such consummate skill
Just why was he hurling his dagger?
  Because he had time to kill.

He drank there to drown his sorrows
  Trusting in alcohol's powers
And all night he slept just like a baby
  He woke up crying about every two hours

A night club is just like a horror film
  When short skirts show young ladies' thighs
And there's chaos out on the dance floor
  For the men there all have roving eyes

If you can't beat them then join them
  May sound good advice but alas
When a school there banned corporal punishment
  The teachers all sat down in class

For this not to happen in our land
  My advice is precise and not vague 
Never say "Never could it happen"
  And avoid all clichés like the plague