Labour

	  		

Bm                        Em7 
    Why are you hanging on? 
        G 
So tight 
                               A 
To the road that I'm headed from 
         Bm 
Off this island 
                       E4             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                    D 
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting 
A7 
If our love died, would that be the worst thing? 
Bm              D 
For somebody I thought was my saviour 
    A7                 A 
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour 
Bm                     D 
The callous skin on my hands is cracking 
G                 A 
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? 
Bm              Dm7 
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 tone 
           G 
And never yours 
                             A4   
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 
                         G 
I'd watch and could not save her 
                  F#7 
The emotional torture 
                            Bm 
From the head of your high table 
                             D 
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                    D 
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting 
A7 
If our love died, would that be the worst thing? 
Bm              D 
For somebody I thought was my saviour 
    A7                 A 
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour 
Bm                     D 
The callous skin on my hands is cracking 
G                 A 
If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? 
Bm              Dm7 
And the silence haunts our bed chamber 
G               A              Bm 
You make me do too much labour 

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

Bm                    D 
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting 

(All day, every day, therapist mother maid) 
A7 
If our love died, would that be the worst thing? 

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

(Just an appendage, live to attend him) 
    A7                 A 
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour 

(So that he never lifts a finger) 
Bm                     D 
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              Dm7 
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