Paris Paloma - labour (cacophony mix) (Explicit) (Lyrics) - Audio at 192khz скачать в хорошем качестве

Paris Paloma - labour (cacophony mix) (Explicit) (Lyrics) - Audio at 192khz

To whoever is listening to this right now, wherever you are ... sending you love, peace, healing, and all good wishes. I love you all. Try to be a positive influence on those in your life and look for others who positively influence you. Please subscribe if you enjoy our videos and press (🔔) to stay updated with daily new lyric videos. We just passed 40,000 subscribers! I still get giddy when I think about how we have grown from a simple attempt to make lyric videos for our kids!! More and more people are reaching out thanking us for the videos and it's awesome. It's so refreshing that others enjoy something that I started for fun, mostly for my kids. Thanks again, everyone!! 🎵 Support Paris on socials! 🎵 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/parispalomaoffic... TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@parispalomaofficial ©️If any producer or label has an issue with this song or picture, please let us know and we will remove it immediately. Background: Anders Jilden https://unsplash.com/photos/sunset-photo-5... #Lyrics #parispaloma #Helfmadian #lyrics #music #pophits #alternative 🎤 ----- Lyrics -----🎤 All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid Nymph then virgin, nurse and a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger 24/7 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 Why are you hanging on So tight To the rope that I’m hanging from Off this island This was an escape plan Carefully timed it So let me go 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 you 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 ended, would that be a bad thing? As the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour Apologies from my tongue Never yours Busy lapping from flowing cup And stabbing with your fork I know you’re a smart man And weaponise The false incompetence It’s dominance under 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 ended, would that be a bad thing? As the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid Nymph then virgin, nurse and a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger 24/7 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