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 thats gone

You favour progression over honesty,
Whilst you pick apart the misguided things that you thought about me
If you took the time just to get a clue,
Than you'll probably just realise 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 thats gone

And in the last 12 months,
I've felt like a stopgap
And a punchbag 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 thats gone