| You can call them chronicles
|
| You can call them songs
|
| It’s an aural rhetoric for the year that’s gone
|
| You can call them chronicles
|
| You can call them songs
|
| It’s an aural rhetoric for the year that’s gone
|
| And you favor progression over honesty
|
| Whilst you pick apart the misguided
|
| Things that you thought about me
|
| And if you took the time just to get a clue
|
| Then you’ll probably just realize that I’m the same as you
|
| You can call them chronicles
|
| You can call them songs
|
| It’s an aural rhetoric for the year that’s gone
|
| You can call them chronicles
|
| You can call them songs
|
| It’s an aural rhetoric for the year that’s gone
|
| And in the last 12 months
|
| I’ve felt like a stopgap
|
| And a punch bag and a doormat
|
| But I’m better than that
|
| And I don’t want to feel
|
| That the only thing that can make me real
|
| Is the fact that I can sing and write
|
| For the joy of someone else
|
| You can call them chronicles
|
| You can call them songs
|
| It’s an aural rhetoric for the year that’s gone
|
| You can call them chronicles
|
| You can call them songs
|
| It’s an aural rhetoric for the year that’s gone |