Bm              Em
Why are you hanging on?
        G
So tight
                               A
To the road that I'm headed from
         Bm
Off this island
         Bm                          Em
This was an escape plan (This was an escape plan)
           G
Carefully timed it
            A
So that we'd go
             -
And dive into the waves below

Bm                 D
Who tends the orchards?
                 G
Who fixes up the gables?
             F#7
Emotional torture
                             Bm
From the head of your high table
                  D
Who fetches the water?
                         G
From the rocky mountain spring
                     F#7
And walk back down again?
                              G
To feel your words and their sharp sting
G
And I'm getting fucking tired

Bm                    Em
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
G                      A
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
Bm                     Em
For somebody I thought was my saviour
G                      A
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
Bm                     Em
The callous skin on my hands is cracking
G                 A
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
Bm               Em
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
G               A              Bm
You make me do too much labour

( Bm  Em  G  A )

(You make me do too much labour)

Bm                Em
Apologies for my tongue
           G
And never yours
                             A
Busy lapping from a flowing cup
                          Bm
And stabbing with your fork
                           Em
I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man)
           G                    A
And weaponise the false incompetence
                        Bm
It's dominance under a guise

            Bm
If we had a daughter
       Em                  G
I'd watch and could not save her
                  F#7
The emotional torture
                            Bm
From the head of your high table
                         Em
She'd do what you taught her
                       G
She'd meet the same cruel fate
                  F#7
So now I've gotta run
                     G
So I can undo this mistake
G
At least I've gotta try

Bm                    Em
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting
G                      A
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?
Bm              Em
For somebody I thought was my saviour
   G                  A
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
Bm                     Em
The callous skin on my hands is cracking
G                 A
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?
Bm              Em
And the silence haunts our bed chamber
G               A              Bm
You make me do too much labour

Bm
All day, every day
Em
Therapist, mother, maid
G
Nymph then a virgin
A
Nurse than a servant
Bm                     Em
Just an appendage, live to attend him
G                      A
So that he never lifts a finger
Bm                   Em
Twenty-four-seven baby machine
   G                    A
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
Bm                      Em
It's not an act of love if you make her
G               A
You make me do too much labour

Bm
All day, every day
Em
Therapist, mother, maid
G
Nymph then a virgin
A
Nurse than a servant
Bm                   Em
Just an appendage, live to attend him
G                 A
So that he never lifts a finger
Bm                  Em
Twenty-four-seven baby machine
   G                    A
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
Bm                      Em
It's not an act of love if you make her
G              A
You make me do too much labour

Bm                    Em
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting

(All day, every day, therapist mother maid)
G                                A
If our love died, would that be the worst thing?

(Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant)
Bm              Em
For somebody I thought was my saviour

(Just an appendage, live to attend him)
    G                  A
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour

(So that he never lifts a finger)
Bm                     Em
The callous skin on my hands is cracking

(Twenty-four-seven baby machine)
G                  A
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

(So he can live out his picket fence dreams)
Bm              Em
And the silence haunts our bed chamber

(It's not an act of love if you make her)
G               A              Bm
You make me do too much labour