Song parody of
Cliches of the World (B Movie)
by The Kinks
Here's where you get creative! Use our cool song parody creator to make a totally new musical idea and lyrics for the Cliches of the World (B Movie) song by The Kinks.
Simply click on any word to get rhyming words suggestion to use instead of the original ones. You may also remove or alter entire lines if needed — when you're done save your work and share it with our community — have fun!
Sunset over the high-rise,
By a motorway,
A little man looks up at the sky.
An uneventful end to a wasted day.
Close-up on the man at the window,
Looking at the street down below.
It's obvious he's got things on his mind.
He shakes his head, pulls down the blind.
He start's writing a letter,
To make it perfectly clear.
He's just a man who's reached the end of his rope,
Expressing his doubts and his fears.
In a world, feels so lonely and afraid,
Disillusioned by the promises they made,
It's a pity that it ended up this way,
Life is just a cliche.
I'm gonna do tomorrow
What I did yesterday.
It's such a dull routine,
Somebody cut this scene,
It's such a boring cliche.
Live life, day to day,
Seems so passe.
Everything you hear and say,
Just another cliche.
Like an actor on a movie screen,
Living out someone else's dream.
Living out a total misconception,
Reality, a false perception.
It's such a wasted life,
Without any conclusion.
Days drift into days,
His life just slips away.
People so blase,
Everything's a cliche.
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
Just an illusion.
Just an illusion.
Moonlight over the high-rise,
At the end of the day.
The little man is asleep in his bed,
Tucked up, safely away.
In his dreams he's taken away by alien beings to another
Galaxy, deep in space. To a planet where a man can live
Out his fantasies, and experience unimaginable pleasures.
But morning comes and soon the realities of life will
Shatter his illusions, and the cliches of the world will
Bring him down. But still he's waiting for a change.
Days drift into days,
His life just slips away.
Everything is passe,
Everything's a cliche.
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
Just an illusion.
Just an illusion.
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
See the sunlight over the motorway,
The little man, with anger in his eyes,
Stands by the window, looks at the sky.
Sunset over the high-rise,
By a motorway,
A little man looks up at the sky.
An uneventful end to a wasted day.
Close-up on the man at the window,
Looking at the street down below.
It's obvious he's got things on his mind.
He shakes his head, pulls down the blind.
He start's writing a letter,
To make it perfectly clear.
He's just a man who's reached the end of his rope,
Expressing his doubts and his fears.
In a world, feels so lonely and afraid,
Disillusioned by the promises they made,
It's a pity that it ended up this way,
Life is just a cliche.
I'm gonna do tomorrow
What I did yesterday.
It's such a dull routine,
Somebody cut this scene,
It's such a boring cliche.
Live life, day to day,
Seems so passe.
Everything you hear and say,
Just another cliche.
Like an actor on a movie screen,
Living out someone else's dream.
Living out a total misconception,
Reality, a false perception.
It's such a wasted life,
Without any conclusion.
Days drift into days,
His life just slips away.
People so blase,
Everything's a cliche.
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
Just an illusion.
Just an illusion.
Moonlight over the high-rise,
At the end of the day.
The little man is asleep in his bed,
Tucked up, safely away.
In his dreams he's taken away by alien beings to another
Galaxy, deep in space. To a planet where a man can live
Out his fantasies, and experience unimaginable pleasures.
But morning comes and soon the realities of life will
Shatter his illusions, and the cliches of the world will
Bring him down. But still he's waiting for a change.
Days drift into days,
His life just slips away.
Everything is passe,
Everything's a cliche.
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
Just an illusion.
Just an illusion.
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
See the sunlight over the motorway,
The little man, with anger in his eyes,
Stands by the window, looks at the sky.
