(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
(Aon, dhà, trì) Carson a tha thu crochte 'air! Cho teann
Chun ròp a tha mi Hanin 'bho. Às an eilean seo?
B 'e plana teicheadh a bha seo (b' e seo plana teicheadh)
Chuir e air adhart gu faiceallach e. Mar sin leig dhomh falbh! Agus dàibheadh a-steach do na tonnan gu h-ìosal
[Ro-sholat]
Cò as trice a bhios a 'coimhead air na h-ubhal-ghortan?
Cò a bhios a 'càradh suas na stuaghan?
Teòir tòcail
Bho cheann do bhòrd àrd
A tha a 'faighinn an uisge
Bho a 'bheinn chreagach as t-earrach?
Agus coisich air ais sìos a-rithist
A bhith a 'faireachdainn na faclan agad agus an gath biorach?
Agus tha mi a 'gettin' fuckin 'sgìth
[Sèist]
Tha na capillaraidhean nam shùilean a 'spreadhadh
Nam bàsaich ar gaol, am biodh sin mar an rud as miosa?
Do chuideigin a bha mi a 'smaoineachadh a bha nam mo shlànaiche
Tha thu cinnteach gun dèan mi mi gu tur na Làbaraich
Tha an craiceann calloyed air mo làmhan Crackin '
Ma thig ar gràdh gu crìch, am biodh sin na dhroch rud?
Agus bidh an t-sàmhchair a 'toirt buaidh air an t-seòmar leabaidh againn
Bidh thu a 'toirt orm cus saothair a dhèanamh
[Iar-chorus]
(Tha thu a 'toirt orm cus saothair a dhèanamh)
[Rann 2]
Leisgeulan bho mo theanga
Cha bhith thu a-riamh
A 'bogadh trang bho chupa sruthadh
Agus a 'stobadh leis an forc agad
Tha fios agam gu bheil thu nad dhuine spaideil (tha fios agam gu bheil thu nad dhuine spaideil)
Agus armachd
An neo-chomas meallta
Tha e na cheannasdan fo stuth
[Ro-sholat]
Nam biodh nighean againn
Bhithinn a 'coimhead agus cha b' urrainn dhomh a shàbhaladh
An torrachas tòcail
Bho cheann do bhòrd àrd
Cha dèan i na bha thu a 'teagasg dhi
Bha i a 'coinneachadh ris an aon rud cruaidh
Mar sin a-nis tha mi air ruith
Mar sin is urrainn dhomh am mearachd seo a thoirt air falbh
Co-dhiù tha mi a 'feuchainn
[Sèist]
Tha na capillaraidhean nam shùilean a 'spreadhadh
Nam bàsaich ar gaol, am biodh sin mar an rud as miosa?
Do chuideigin a bha mi a 'smaoineachadh a bha nam mo shlànaiche
Tha thu cinnteach gun dèan mi mi gu tur na Làbaraich
Tha an craiceann calloyed air mo làmhan Crackin '
Ma thig ar gràdh gu crìch, am biodh sin na dhroch rud?
Agus bidh an t-sàmhchair a 'toirt buaidh air an t-seòmar leabaidh againn
Bidh thu a 'toirt orm cus saothair a dhèanamh
[Drochaid]
Fad an latha, a h-uile latha: leasaiche, màthair, maid
Nymph, an uairsin banaltram maighdeann, agus searbhant
Dìreach pàipear-taice, beò airson a bhith an làthair
Gus am bi e a-riamh a 'togail mheur a-riamh
Inneal pàisde fichead
Mar sin faodaidh e a bhith a 'fuireach a-mach a bhith a' fuireach feansa a 'bhraid aige
Chan e gnìomh gaoil a th 'ann ma nì thu i
Bidh thu a 'toirt orm cus saothair a dhèanamh
Fad an latha, a h-uile latha: leasaiche, màthair, maid
Nymph, an uairsin maighdeann, banaltram, agus searbhant
Dìreach pàipear-taice, beò airson a bhith an làthair
Gus am bi e a-riamh a 'togail mheur a-riamh
Inneal pàisde fichead
Mar sin faodaidh e a bhith a 'fuireach a-mach a bhith a' fuireach feansa a 'bhraid aige
Chan e gnìomh gaoil a th 'ann ma nì thu i
Bidh thu a 'toirt orm cus saothair a dhèanamh
[Sèist]
Tha na capillaraidhean nam shùilean a 'spreadhadh (fad an latha, a h-uile latha: leasaiche, màthair, maid)
Nam bàsaich ar gaol, am biodh sin mar an rud as miosa? (Nymph, an uairsin maighdeann, banaltram, agus searbhant)
Do chuideigin shaoil mi gur e mo Shliora a bh 'agam (dìreach pàipear-taice, beò a bhith an làthair aig)
Tha thu cinnteach gun dèan mi tòrr na Làbaraich gu tur (gus am bi e a-riamh a 'togail meur a-riamh)
Tha craiceann callous air mo làmhan Crackin '(inneal pàisde fichead' s a seachd bliadhna pàisde)
Ma thig ar gràdh gu crìch, am biodh sin na dhroch rud? (Mar sin faodaidh e a bhith a 'fuireach a-mach aislingean feansa pictom aige)
Agus bidh an t-sàmhchair a 'toirt buaidh air an t-seòmar leabaidh againn (chan e gnìomh gaoil a th' ann ma nì thu i)
Bidh thu a 'toirt orm cus saothair a dhèanamh