Hm
Why are you hanging
Em
on so tight
G
To the rope that I'm hanging
A
from?
Off this
Hm
island, this was an escape plan
E
(this was an
Em
escape plan)
Carefully
G
timed it, so let me go
A
And dive into the waves below
Hm
Who tends the orch
D
ards? Who fixes up the
G
gables?
Emotional
F#
torture from the head of your high
Hm
table
Who fetches the water
D
from the rocky mountain
G
spring?
And walk back down
F#
again to feel your words
And I'm
G
getting fucking tired
Hm
The capillaries in my
D
eyes are bursting
G
If our love died,
A
would that be the worst thing?
Hm
For somebody I
D
thought was my saviour
You
G
sure make me do a
A
whole lot of labour
Hm
The calloused skin on my
D
hands is cracking
G
If our love ends,
A
would that be a bad thing?
Hm
And the silence
D
haunts our bed chamber
G
You make me do
A
too much labour
Hm
Em
G
A
You make me do too much labour
Hm
Apologies from my
Em
tongue, and never
G
yours
Busy lapping from flowing
A
cup and stabbing with your fork
Hm
I know you're a smart man
Em
(I know you're a smart man)
The false incompe
A
tence, it's dominance under a
Hm
guise
Hm
If we had a daughter
D
, I'd watch and could not
G
save her
The emotional tor
F#
ture from the head of your high
Hm
table
She'd do what you taught her
D
She'd meet the same
G
cruel fate
So now I've gotta
F#
run, so I can undo this mis
G
take
Hm
The capillaries in my
D
eyes are bursting
G
If our love died,
A
would that be the worst thing?
Hm
For somebody I
D
thought was my saviour
You
G
sure make me do a
A
whole lot of labour
Hm
The calloused skin on my
D
hands is cracking
G
If our love ends,
A
would that be a bad thing?
Hm
And the silence
D
haunts our bed chamber
G
You make me do
A
too much labour
[:
Hm
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid
Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him
So that he never lifts a finger
So
G
he can live out his
A
picket-fence dreams
Hm
It's not an act of
D
love if you make her
G
You make me do
A
too much labour :] x2
Hm
The capillaries in my
D
eyes are bursting
G
If our love died,
A
would that be the worst thing?
Hm
For somebody I
D
thought was my saviour
You
G
sure make me do a
A
whole lot of labour
Hm
The calloused skin on my
D
hands is cracking
G
If our love ends,
A
would that be a bad thing?
Hm
And the silence
D
haunts our bed chamber
G
You make me do
A
too much labour
