(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
(Ien, twa, trije) wêrom hingje jo oan! Sa strak
Nei it seil dat ik fan hingje. Fan dit eilân ôf?
Dit wie in ûntsnappingsplan (dit wie in ûntsnappingsplan)
Foarsichtich timed it. Dat lit my gean! En dûke yn 'e wâl hjirûnder
[Foar-chorus]
Wa hat de oanstriid de bochten?
Wa fixeart de Gables op?
Emosjonele marteling
Út 'e holle fan jo hege tabel
Dy't it wetter helpt
Fan 'e rotsige berchje maitiid?
En rinne wer werom
Om jo wurden te fielen en har skerpe sting?
En ik krij it wurch fan 'e fuckin
[Koar]
De kapillêres yn myn eagen binne burst
As ús leafde ferstoar, soe dat it minste wêze?
Foar ien tocht ik dat ik myn Rêder wie
Jo meitsje my wis in heule arbeid te dwaan
De oproppen hûd op myn hannen is crackin '
As ús leafde einiget, soe dat in min ding wêze?
En de stilte hat ús bêdkeamer efterhelle
Jo meitsje my te folle arbeid te dwaan
[Post-chorus]
(Jo meitsje my te folle arbeid te dwaan)
[VERSE 2]
Excuses fan myn tonge
Nea dy
Drok dwaande mei in streamende tas
En stekke mei jo gabel
Ik wit dat jo in smart man binne (ik wit dat jo in tûke man binne)
En wapen
De falske ynkompetinsje
It is dominânsje ûnder guise
[Foar-chorus]
As wy in dochter hienen
Ik soe har sjen en koe har net rêde
De emosjonele marteling
Út 'e holle fan jo hege tabel
Se soe dwaan wat jo har learden
Se soe deselde wrede needlot moetsje
Dus no moat ik rinne
Dat ik kin dizze flater ûngedien meitsje
Teminsten moat ik besykje
[Koar]
De kapillêres yn myn eagen binne burst
As ús leafde ferstoar, soe dat it minste wêze?
Foar ien tocht ik dat ik myn Rêder wie
Jo meitsje my wis in heule arbeid te dwaan
De oproppen hûd op myn hannen is crackin '
As ús leafde einiget, soe dat in min ding wêze?
En de stilte hat ús bêdkeamer efterhelle
Jo meitsje my te folle arbeid te dwaan
[Brêge]
De heule dei, elke dei: Therapeut, mem, faam
Nymph, dan in faam ferpleechster, en in feint
Gewoan in appendage, libje om him by te wenjen
Sadat hy noait in finger hellet
Fjouwerentweintich-sân-machine
Dat hy kin syn Picket Fence Dreamen út libje
It is gjin hanneling fan leafde as jo har meitsje
Jo meitsje my te folle arbeid te dwaan
De heule dei, elke dei: Therapeut, mem, faam
Nymph, dan in faam, ferpleechster, en in feint
Gewoan in appendage, libje om him by te wenjen
Sadat hy noait in finger hellet
Fjouwerentweintich-sân-machine
Dat hy kin syn Picket Fence Dreamen út libje
It is gjin hanneling fan leafde as jo har meitsje
Jo meitsje my te folle arbeid te dwaan
[Koar]
De kapillaren yn myn eagen binne bursting (de heule dei, elke dei: Therapeut, mem, faam)
As ús leafde ferstoar, soe dat it minste wêze? (Nymph, dan in faam, ferpleechster, en in feint)
Foar ien tocht ik dat ik myn rêder wie (gewoan in appendage, libje om him by te wenjen)
Jo meitsje my wis te dwaan in heule arbeid (sadat hy noait in finger lift)
De kallige hûd op myn hannen is crackin '(fjouwerentweintich-sân babynautomaat)
As ús leafde einiget, soe dat in min ding wêze? (Dat hy kin syn dreamen fan 'e picket libje)
En de stilte hat ús bêdkampen efterbliuwe (it is gjin hanneling fan leafde as jo har meitsje)
Jo meitsje my te folle arbeid te dwaan