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  • 作曲 : Paris Paloma
    Why are you hanging on so tight
    To the rope that I'm hanging from off this island?
    This was an escape plan, carefully timed it
    So let me go and dive into the waves below
    Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables?
    Emotional torture from the head of your high table
    Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring?
    And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting?
    And I'm gettin' ****ing tired
    The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
    If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
    For somebody I thought was my saviour
    You sure make mе do a whole lot of labour
    The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
    If our lovе ends, would that be a bad thing?
    And the silence haunts our bed chamber
    You make me do too much labour
    Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    Ooh-ooh, ooh
    Apologies from my tongue, never yours
    Busy lapping from flowing cup and stabbing with your fork
    I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man) and weaponise
    The false incompetence, it's dominance under guise
    If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her
    The emotional torture from the head of your high table
    She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate
    So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake
    At least I've gotta try
    The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
    If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
    For somebody I thought was my saviour
    You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
    The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
    If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
    And the silence haunts our bed chamber
    You make me do too much labour
    Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    Ooh-ooh, ooh
    All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
    Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant
    Just an appendage, live to attend him
    So that he never lifts a finger
    24/7 baby machine
    So he can live out his picket fence dreams
    It's not an act of love if you make her
    You make me do too much labour
    All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
    Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant
    Just an appendage, live to attend him
    So that he never lifts a finger
    24/7 baby machine
    So he can live out his picket fence dreams
    It's not an act of love if you make her
    You make me do too much labour
    The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
    If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
    For somebody I thought was my saviour
    You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
    The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
    If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
    And the silence haunts our bed chamber
    You make me do too much labour
  • [00:00.000] 作曲 : Paris Paloma
    [00:00.570]Why are you hanging on so tight
    [00:06.710]To the rope that I'm hanging from off this island?
    [00:13.090]This was an escape plan, carefully timed it
    [00:18.700]So let me go and dive into the waves below
    [00:23.440]Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables?
    [00:30.260]Emotional torture from the head of your high table
    [00:35.760]Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring?
    [00:42.060]And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting?
    [00:48.000]And I'm gettin' ****ing tired
    [00:51.900]The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
    [00:55.280]If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
    [00:58.080]For somebody I thought was my saviour
    [01:00.940]You sure make mе do a whole lot of labour
    [01:03.950]The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
    [01:06.780]If our lovе ends, would that be a bad thing?
    [01:09.620]And the silence haunts our bed chamber
    [01:12.440]You make me do too much labour
    [01:15.460]Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    [01:18.210]Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    [01:21.030]Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    [01:23.990]Ooh-ooh, ooh
    [01:27.050]Apologies from my tongue, never yours
    [01:33.980]Busy lapping from flowing cup and stabbing with your fork
    [01:39.040]I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man) and weaponise
    [01:45.530]The false incompetence, it's dominance under guise
    [01:50.930]If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her
    [01:56.830]The emotional torture from the head of your high table
    [02:02.550]She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate
    [02:08.470]So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake
    [02:15.800]At least I've gotta try
    [02:18.570]The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
    [02:21.970]If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
    [02:24.780]For somebody I thought was my saviour
    [02:27.650]You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
    [02:30.720]The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
    [02:33.430]If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
    [02:36.290]And the silence haunts our bed chamber
    [02:39.160]You make me do too much labour
    [02:42.160]Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    [02:45.180]Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    [02:47.870]Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
    [02:50.670]Ooh-ooh, ooh
    [02:53.850]All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
    [02:56.570]Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant
    [02:59.510]Just an appendage, live to attend him
    [03:02.370]So that he never lifts a finger
    [03:05.280]24/7 baby machine
    [03:07.830]So he can live out his picket fence dreams
    [03:10.970]It's not an act of love if you make her
    [03:13.860]You make me do too much labour
    [03:16.850]All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
    [03:19.670]Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant
    [03:22.590]Just an appendage, live to attend him
    [03:25.380]So that he never lifts a finger
    [03:28.340]24/7 baby machine
    [03:30.870]So he can live out his picket fence dreams
    [03:33.980]It's not an act of love if you make her
    [03:36.990]You make me do too much labour
    [03:39.940]The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
    [03:42.760]If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
    [03:45.710]For somebody I thought was my saviour
    [03:48.590]You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
    [03:51.520]The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
    [03:54.350]If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
    [03:57.250]And the silence haunts our bed chamber
    [04:00.150]You make me do too much labour