Paris Paloma - LABOUR (the cacophony) Lyrics
Paris Paloma - LABOUR (the cacophony) Lyrics
Official
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
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 hangin' on so tight
To the rope that I'm hangin' from off this island?
This was an escape plan (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 your words and their sharp sting?
And I'm gettin' f*cking 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 crackin'
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 from 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 crackin'
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
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
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
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
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 crackin' (24/7 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
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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
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 hangin' on so tight
To the rope that I'm hangin' from off this island?
This was an escape plan (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 your words and their sharp sting?
And I'm gettin' f*cking 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 crackin'
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 from 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 crackin'
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
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
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
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
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 crackin' (24/7 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
Nymph, then a virgin, nurse, then 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 hangin' on so tight
To the rope that I'm hangin' from off this island?
This was an escape plan (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 your words and their sharp sting?
And I'm gettin' f*cking 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 crackin'
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 from 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 crackin'
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
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
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
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
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 crackin' (24/7 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
Writer: Paris Paloma
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
"Labour" is an indie folk song by British singer-songwriter Paris Paloma released on 24 March 2023. The track is described as an anthem that addresses issues of gender inequality within societal structures.
The song was written by Paris Paloma, a British artist from Derbyshire. Paloma decided to combine two separate songs she had been writing into a single track, which became "Labour". The song, which was produced by Justin Glasco, was recorded in Los Angeles by Paloma with backup singers Natalie Duque, Nolyn Ducich and Annabel Lee.
The lyrics deal with an abusive relationship in which the singer's own emotional needs are subjugated beneath her husband's expectations that she perform emotional and physical labour. It focuses on the history of women performing unpaid domestic labour, particularly homemaking and childrearing, and criticizes patriarchal expectations of women within marriage. The song also explores concepts of weaponized incompetence and the cycle of abuse.
A different version of the song, 'LABOUR- the cacophony' was released on 29th March, 2024. It is a collection of clips of women singing along with the song or making thematically relevant works using it as an audio, with their vocals used as the titular cacophony.
-Wikipedia
Performed By:
Paris PalomaThe song was written by Paris Paloma, a British artist from Derbyshire. Paloma decided to combine two separate songs she had been writing into a single track, which became "Labour". The song, which was produced by Justin Glasco, was recorded in Los Angeles by Paloma with backup singers Natalie Duque, Nolyn Ducich and Annabel Lee.
The lyrics deal with an abusive relationship in which the singer's own emotional needs are subjugated beneath her husband's expectations that she perform emotional and physical labour. It focuses on the history of women performing unpaid domestic labour, particularly homemaking and childrearing, and criticizes patriarchal expectations of women within marriage. The song also explores concepts of weaponized incompetence and the cycle of abuse.
A different version of the song, 'LABOUR- the cacophony' was released on 29th March, 2024. It is a collection of clips of women singing along with the song or making thematically relevant works using it as an audio, with their vocals used as the titular cacophony.
-Wikipedia
Featuring: Natalie Duque, Nolyn Ducich, Annabel Lee
Genre(s): Folk, Indie
Language: English
Length: 4:07
Written by: Paris Paloma
Produced by: Justin Glasco
Released: March 29th, 2024
Year: 2024