Proper Cliché

I've been looking for a love for a long time
Youthful musings on a scrap receipt
I've been wondering, if I just played my cards right
Would I have the life of my daydreams?

'Cross the pond you were a girl slinging coffee
Change the world, just one croissant at a time
Didn't know the singer playing on your car screen
Dreamed you straight into her life

You're a shooting star in the middle of the morning
The best part of the movie I'm ignoring
You're a four-leaf clover in a sidewalk crack
I wasn't even looking but I'll never look back
I swear I'm not the lucky type
But how can I argue with all that?

When I met you, thought I fell off a cliffside
Woke up stranded in a whole 'nother world
Think I'm dreaming most of the time
There's just no way that you're my girl

You're the inspiration, my rhythm and blues
Always the artist, for once the muse
A sunflower scribbled by a music staff
You had me at 'hello' in that pretty accent

God, I'm not the lucky type
But how can I argue?
When I'm not the lucky type
So how did I find you?

And even though the distance is too much
Girl meets girl, across the world
We're proper cliché my love
But there's nobody with a laugh that pretty
Nobody with a smile like yours
Nobody who gets me, like you
In Massachusettshire



Credits
Writer(s): Abigail Comstock
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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