Chord labour by Paris Paloma

Intro One, two, three Verse 1 Bm Why are you hangin' on Em G So tight To the rope that I'm hangin' from A Bm Off this island? Em This was an escape plan This was an escape plan G Carefully timed it So let me go A And dive into the waves below Pre-Chorus Bm D Who tends the orchards? G Who fixes up the gables? F# Emotional torture Bm From the head of your high table D Who fetches the water G From the rocky mountain spring? F# And walk back down again G To feel your words and their sharp sting? And I'm gettin' fuckin' tired Chorus Bm D The capillaries in my eyes are bursting G A If our love died, would that be the worst thing? Bm D For somebody I thought was my saviour G A You sure make me do a whole lot of labour Bm D The calloused skin on my hands is crackin' G A If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? Bm D And the silence haunts our bed chamber G A You make me do too much labour Pre-Verse Bm Em G A You make me do too much labour Verse 2 Bm Apologies from my tongue Em G Never yours A Busy lapping from flowing cup Bm And stabbing with your fork Em I know you're a smart man I know you're a smart man G And weaponise The false incompetence A Bm It's dominance under guise Pre-Chorus D If we had a daughter G I'd watch and could not save her F# 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# So now I've gotta run G So I can undo this mistake At least I've gotta try Chorus Bm D The capillaries in my eyes are bursting G A If our love died, would that be the worst thing? Bm D For somebody I thought was my saviour G A You sure make me do a whole lot of labour Bm D The calloused skin on my hands is crackin' G A If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? Bm D And the silence haunts our bed chamber G A You make me do too much labour Bridge Bm D All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid G A Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant Bm D Just an appendage, live to attend him G A So that he never lifts a finger Bm D Twenty-four-seven baby machine G A So he can live out his picket fence dreams Bm D It's not an act of love if you make her G A You make me do too much labour Bm D All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid G A Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant Bm D Just an appendage, live to attend him G A So that he never lifts a finger Bm D Twenty-four-seven baby machine G A So he can live out his picket fence dreams Bm D It's not an act of love if you make her G A You make me do too much labour Chorus Bm D The capillaries in my eyes are bursting G A If our love died, would that be the worst thing? Bm D For somebody I thought was my saviour G A You sure make me do a whole lot of labour Bm D The calloused skin on my hands is crackin' G A If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? Bm D And the silence haunts our bed chamber G A You make me do too much labour