作曲 : Paris Paloma

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

Why are you hangin' on so tight

To the rope that I'm hangin' 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 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 me do a whole lot of labour

The calloused skin on my hands is crackin'

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

And the silence haunts our bed chamber

You make me do too much labour

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 crackin'

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 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 (All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid)

If our love died, would that be the worst thing? (Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant)

For somebody I thought was my saviour (Just an appendage, live to attend him)

You sure make me do a whole lot of labour (So that he never lifts a finger)

The calloused skin on my hands is crackin' (24/7 baby machine)

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? (So he can live out his picket fence dreams)

And the silence haunts our bed chamber (It's not an act of love if you make her)

You make me do too much labour