(One, two, three) 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
by Sanderlei Silveira - 26/03/2023
(One, two, three) 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
[Pre-Chorus]
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' fuckin' tired
[Chorus]
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
[Post-Chorus]
(You make me do too much labour)
[Verse 2]
Apologies from my tongue
Never yours
Busy lapping from a 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
[Pre-Chorus]
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
[Chorus]
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
[Bridge]
All day, every day: Therapist, mother, maid
Nymph, then a virgin nurse, and a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
Twenty-four-seven 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, and a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
Twenty-four-seven 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
[Chorus]
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, and 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 callous skin on my hands is crackin' (Twenty-four-seven 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
(Een, twee, drie) Waarom hang jy aan! So styf
Aan die tou waaruit ek hang. Van hierdie eiland af?
Dit was 'n ontsnappingsplan (dit was 'n ontsnappingsplan)
Het dit versigtig opgestel. Laat my dus gaan! En duik in die golwe hieronder
[Pre-Chorus]
Wie is die boorde?
Wie maak die gewels reg?
Emosionele marteling
Van die kop van u hoë tafel af
Wat die water haal
Van die Rocky Mountain Spring?
En stap weer af
Om u woorde en hul skerp angel te voel?
En ek is moeg
[Koor]
Die kapillêres in my oë bars
As ons liefde gesterf het, sou dit dan die slegste ding wees?
Vir iemand wat ek gedink het my Verlosser was
U maak my seker baie arbeid
Die oproepe op my hande is kraak
As ons liefde eindig, sou dit dan 'n slegte ding wees?
En die stilte spook ons bedkamer
U laat my te veel arbeid doen
[Post-Chorus]
(U laat my te veel arbeid doen)
[Vers 2]
Ek vra om verskoning van my tong
Nooit joune nie
Besig om van 'n vloeiende beker af te lap
En met jou vurk steek
Ek weet jy is 'n slim man (ek weet jy is 'n slim man)
En wapen
Die valse onbevoegdheid
Dit is oorheersing onder dekmantel
[Pre-Chorus]
As ons 'n dogter gehad het
Ek sou kyk en haar nie kon red nie
Die emosionele marteling
Van die kop van u hoë tafel af
Sy sou doen wat jy haar geleer het
Sy sal dieselfde wrede lot ontmoet
So nou moet ek hardloop
Ek kan dus hierdie fout ongedaan maak
Ten minste moet ek probeer
[Koor]
Die kapillêres in my oë bars
As ons liefde gesterf het, sou dit dan die slegste ding wees?
Vir iemand wat ek gedink het my Verlosser was
U maak my seker baie arbeid
Die oproepe op my hande is kraak
As ons liefde eindig, sou dit dan 'n slegte ding wees?
En die stilte spook ons bedkamer
U laat my te veel arbeid doen
[Brug]
Die hele dag, elke dag: terapeut, moeder, slavin
Nimf, destyds 'n maagdelike verpleegster en 'n dienskneg
Net 'n aanhangsel, leef om hom by te woon
Sodat hy nooit 'n vinger lig nie
Vier-sewe-sewe babamasjien
Sodat hy sy picketheiningdrome kan uitleef
Dit is nie 'n daad van liefde as jy haar maak nie
U laat my te veel arbeid doen
Die hele dag, elke dag: terapeut, moeder, slavin
Nimf, destyds 'n maagd, verpleegster en 'n dienskneg
Net 'n aanhangsel, leef om hom by te woon
Sodat hy nooit 'n vinger lig nie
Vier-sewe-sewe babamasjien
Sodat hy sy picketheiningdrome kan uitleef
Dit is nie 'n daad van liefde as jy haar maak nie
U laat my te veel arbeid doen
[Koor]
Die kapillêres in my oë bars (die hele dag, elke dag: terapeut, moeder, slavin)
As ons liefde gesterf het, sou dit dan die slegste ding wees? (Nimf, dan 'n maagd, verpleegster en 'n dienskneg)
Vir iemand wat ek gedink het my Verlosser was (net 'n aanhangsel, leef om hom by te woon)
U maak my sekerlik baie arbeid (sodat hy nooit 'n vinger lig nie)
Die callous vel op my hande is kraak (vier en twintig sewe babamasjien)
As ons liefde eindig, sou dit dan 'n slegte ding wees? (Sodat hy sy picketheiningdrome kan uitleef)
En die stilte spook ons bedkamer (dit is nie 'n daad van liefde as jy haar maak nie)
U laat my te veel arbeid doen