One more game, one more chance One more orchestrated song and dance He'd be up front and speak his peace And ask for her time To put their heads together And try to make the knot unwind And it strikes home that it's time to make his move Or it's time to turn and walk away So he plays that old cliché Silent tears, bleeding heart Well our prima donna plies her art Defenses of defenses of faultless design Still she's only asking him To help her make the knot unwind And if the very next words Leaving her lips could decide If he'd go or if he'd stay She would play that old cliché Who makes up the rules for the world? Haven't we been down this road before? Isn't anything peculiar here? Certainly there must be something more Where are the words, where are the words, Where are the words Where are the words, where are the words, Where are the words And it's almost not worth singing about, It seems so everyday anyway Still we play that old cliché And here sit i, one man show I vivisect and then pretend to know All it ever gets me is an ache in the mind Can't somebody help me to try to make the knot unwind And I say what I say when I know There's really nothing left to say Then I play that old cliché Throw away that old cliché