Labour Tab par Paris Paloma

[Verse 1]
Am                  C
Why are you hangin' on
   F
So tight
                             G
To the rope that I'm hangin' from
N.C.     Am
Off this island?
                   C
This was an escape plan (This was an escape plan)
          F
Carefully timed it
          G
So let me go
N.C.
And dive into the waves below
 
 
[Pre-Chorus]
Am            C
Who tends the orchards?
                 F
Who fixes up the gables?
          G
Emotional torture
     E7                    Am
From the head of your high table
                C
Who fetches the water
                        F
From the rocky mountain spring?
                   E7
And walk back down again
             E                     F
To feel your words and their sharp sting?
 
And I'm gettin' fuckin' tired
 
 
[Chorus]
Am                    C
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
F                 G
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
Am             C
For somebody I thought was my saviour
F                   G
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
Am                       C
The calloused skin on my hands is crackin'
F                 G
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
Am              C
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
F              G
You make me do too much labour
 
 
[Break]
Am C F G x2
(You make me do too much labour)
 
 
[Verse 2]
Am                C
Apologies from my tongue
      F
Never yours
                          G
Busy lapping from flowing cup
N.C.                   Am
And stabbing with your fork
                      C
I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man)
         F
And weaponise
                 G
The false incompetence
N.C.
It's dominance under guise
 
 
[Pre-Chorus]
Am          C
If we had a daughter
                        F
I'd watch and could not save her
                 G
The emotional torture
                           Am
From the head of your high table
                         C
She'd do what you taught her
                          F
She'd meet the same cruel fate
                  E7
So now I've gotta run
                   F
So I can undo this mistake
 
At least I've gotta try
 
 
[Chorus]
Am                    C
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
F                 G
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
Am             C
For somebody I thought was my saviour
F                   G
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
Am                       C
The calloused skin on my hands is crackin'
F                 G
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
Am              C
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
F              G   N.C
You make me do too much labour
 
 
[Bridge] (Play muted)
Am                  C
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
F                     G
Nymph, then a virgin, nurse and a servant
Am                 C
Just an appendage, live to attend him
F                G     N.C
So that he never lifts a finger
Am                C
Twenty-four-seven baby machine
F                      G
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
Am                 C
It's not an act of love if you make her
F              G
You make me do too much labour
 
 
Am                  C
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
F                     G
Nymph, then a virgin, nurse and a servant
Am                 C
Just an appendage, live to attend him
F                G     N.C
So that he never lifts a finger
Am                C
Twenty-four-seven baby machine
F                      G
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
Am                 C
It's not an act of love if you make her
F              G
You make me do too much labour
 
 
 
[Chorus]
Am                    C
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting (All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid)
F                 G
If our love died, would that be the worst thing? (Nymph, then a virgin, nurse and a servant)
Am             C
For somebody I thought was my saviour(Just an appendage, live to attend him)
F                   G
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour (So that he never lifts a finger)
Am                       C
The calloused skin on my hands is crackin'(Twenty-four-seven baby machine)
F                 G
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? (So he can live out his picket fence dreams)
Am              C
And the silence haunts our bed chamber (It's not an act of love if you make her)
F              G
You make me do too much labour