אקורדים לשיר Labour - Paris Paloma

תכנים נוספים לשיר זה

מילים פרשנות

נגנו פרימיום

חוויית פרימיום אמיתית עם תוכן איכותי ומקצועי מחכה רק לכם

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לחצו כאן לפרטים נוספים

* 7 ימי התנסות ללא עלות

שינוי טון

גודל גופן

Why are you hanging on

So tight

To the rope that I'm hanging from

Off this island

This was an escape plan (This was an escape plan)

Carefully timed it

So let me go N.C. And dive into the waves below

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 getting fucking tired

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 cracking

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

And the silence haunts our bed chamber

You make me do too much labour |

Apologies for my tongue

Never yours

Busy lapping from 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 a guise (

)

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

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 cracking

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

And the silence haunts our bed chamber

You make me do too much labour

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

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, then 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

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, then 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 calloused skin on my hands is cracking (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

איך השיר לדעתך?

תודה! הצבעתך התקבלה

אולי תאהבו גם

הספר הכחול

פאר טסי

חייזרית

פאר טסי

אינטראקטיבי

דפיקות הלב

פאר טסי

בואי

הפרויקט של עידן רייכל

להאמין

יגל אושרי

אינטראקטיבי

אור

אליעד נחום

אינטראקטיבי

אור גדול

אמיר דדון

אינטראקטיבי

ממעמקים

הפרויקט של עידן רייכל

אינטראקטיבי

אם את כבר הולכת

נדב חנציס

לדרכי לדרכך

פאר טסי

אינטראקטיבי

Complicated

Avril Lavigne

לילה כיום יאיר

אביתר בנאי

חדש!

גן עדן

אגם בוחבוט

אינטראקטיבי

על כפיו יביא

רבקה זוהר

להקות שהתפרקו

פאר טסי

ללכת

לירן דנינו

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