One, two, three Why are you hanging on so tight To the rope that I'm hanging from? Off this island, this was an escape plan (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 getting fucking 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 me do a whole lot of labour The calloused skin on my hands is cracking If our love ended, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour You make me do too much labour Apologies from my tongue, and 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 a 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 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 virgin, nurse and 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 (all day, every day) Are bursting (therapist, mother, maid) If our love died (nymph then virgin) Would that be the worst thing? (Nurse then a servant) For somebody (just an appendage) I thought was my saviour (live to attend him) You sure make me do (so that) A whole lot of labour (he never lifts a finger) The calloused skin on my hands (24∕7) Is cracking (baby machine) If our love ends (so he can live out) Would that be a bad thing? (His picket fence dreams) And the silence (it's not an act of love) Haunts our bed chamber (if you make her) You make me do too much labour THE WHOLE SONG>>>>>>
Lyrics: One, two, three Why are you hanging on so tight To the rope that I'm hanging from? Off this island, this was an escape plan (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 getting fucking 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 me do a whole lot of labour The calloused skin on my hands is cracking If our love ended, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour You make me do too much labour Apologies from my tongue, and 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 a 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 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 virgin, nurse and 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 (all day, every day) Are bursting (therapist, mother, maid) If our love died (nymph then virgin) Would that be the worst thing? (Nurse then a servant) For somebody (just an appendage) I thought was my saviour (live to attend him) You sure make me do (so that) A whole lot of labour (he never lifts a finger) The calloused skin on my hands (24∕7) Is cracking (baby machine) If our love ends (so he can live out) Would that be a bad thing? (His picket fence dreams) And the silence (it's not an act of love) Haunts our bed chamber (if you make her) You make me do too much labour
![Paris Paloma - labour [Official Video]](/img/n.gif)
WOMAN DESERVE BETTER♡︎
THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST SPED UP VERSIONS IVE EVER SEEN 😲
Best sped up version yet, good work
One, two, three
Why are you hanging on so tight
To the rope that I'm hanging from?
Off this island, this was an escape plan (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 getting fucking 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 me do a whole lot of labour
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
If our love ended, would that be a bad thing?
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
You make me do too much labour
You make me do too much labour
Apologies from my tongue, and 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 a 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
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 virgin, nurse and 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 (all day, every day)
Are bursting (therapist, mother, maid)
If our love died (nymph then virgin)
Would that be the worst thing? (Nurse then a servant)
For somebody (just an appendage)
I thought was my saviour (live to attend him)
You sure make me do (so that)
A whole lot of labour (he never lifts a finger)
The calloused skin on my hands (24∕7)
Is cracking (baby machine)
If our love ends (so he can live out)
Would that be a bad thing? (His picket fence dreams)
And the silence (it's not an act of love)
Haunts our bed chamber (if you make her)
You make me do too much labour
THE WHOLE SONG>>>>>>
The fact this song describes my moms life is destroying me mentaly
2:47
Im not a girl, but ive been abused and this song just…. Describes it
Lyrics:
One, two, three
Why are you hanging on so tight
To the rope that I'm hanging from?
Off this island, this was an escape plan (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 getting fucking 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 me do a whole lot of labour
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
If our love ended, would that be a bad thing?
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
You make me do too much labour
You make me do too much labour
Apologies from my tongue, and 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 a 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
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 virgin, nurse and 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 (all day, every day)
Are bursting (therapist, mother, maid)
If our love died (nymph then virgin)
Would that be the worst thing? (Nurse then a servant)
For somebody (just an appendage)
I thought was my saviour (live to attend him)
You sure make me do (so that)
A whole lot of labour (he never lifts a finger)
The calloused skin on my hands (24∕7)
Is cracking (baby machine)
If our love ends (so he can live out)
Would that be a bad thing? (His picket fence dreams)
And the silence (it's not an act of love)
Haunts our bed chamber (if you make her)
You make me do too much labour
2:01
2:54