CHORDS: Paris Paloma – Labour Chords on Piano & Ukulele

These are Labour chords by Paris Paloma on Piano, Ukulele, Guitar, and Keyboard.
[Verse 1]
Bm                        Em7
    Why are you hanging on?
        G
So tight
To the road that 
               A
I'm headed from
         Bm
Off this island
                       
This was an escape plan 
Esus4           Em
(This was an escape plan)
           G
Carefully timed it
                A
So that we'd go
And dive into the
 waves below
[Pre-Chorus]
Bm                      D
   Who tends the orchards?
                 G
Who fixes up the gables?
             F#7
Emotional torture
                             Bm
From the head of your high table
                     D
Who fetches the water?
                         G
From the rocky mountain spring
                     F#7
And walk back down again?
To feel your words and
        G
 their sharp sting
G
And I'm getting fcking tired

[Chorus]
Bm                    D
The capillaries in my eyes
 are bursting
A7
If our love died, would 
that be the worst thing?
Bm              D
For somebody I thought 
was my saviour
    A7                 A
You sure make me do a whole
 lot of labour
Bm                     D
The callous skin on my hands
 is cracking
G                 A
If our love ends, would 
that be a bad thing?
Bm              DM7
And the silence haunts
 our bed chamber
G               A 
You make me do too 
             Bm
much labour
Bm Em G A
       (you make me
 do too much labour)
[Verse 2]
Bm                Em
Apologies for my tone
           G
And never yours
                             Asus4
Busy lapping from a flowing cup
                          Bm
And stabbing with your fork
I know you're a smart man 
  Em
(I know you're a smart man)
           G     
And weaponise the
               A
 false incompetence
                        Bm
It's dominance under a guise

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[Pre-Chorus]
            Bm
If we had a daughter
                         G
I'd watch and could not save her
                  F#7
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#7
So now I've gotta run
                     G
So I can undo this mistake
G
At least I've gotta try
[Chorus]
Bm                    D
The capillaries in my eyes 
are bursting
A7
If our love died, would 
that be the worst thing?
Bm              D
For somebody I thought 
was my saviour
    A7                 A
You sure make me do a whole 
lot of labour
Bm                     D
The callous skin on my hands 
is cracking
G                 A
If our love ends, would 
that be a bad thing?
Bm              DM7
And the silence haunts 
our bed chamber
G               A  
You make me do too
            Bm
 much labour
[Bridge]
Bm
All day, every day
Bm
Therapist, mother, maid
Bm
Nymph then a virgin
Bm
Nurse than a servant
Bm
Just an appendage, 
live to attend him
Bm
So that he never
 lifts a finger
Bm
Twenty-four-seven 
baby machine
   G                    A
So he can live out his picket
 fence dreams
Bm
It's not an act of love
 if you make her
G               A
You make me do too
 much labour
[Verse 3]
Bm
All day, every day
D
Therapist, mother, maid
G
Nymph then a virgin
A
Nurse than a servant
Bm
Just an appendage, 
live to attend him
G                 A
So that he never lifts
 a finger
Bm
Twenty-four-seven baby machine
   G                    A
So he can live out his picket
 fence dreams
Bm
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.    
      (All day, every day, 
therapist mother maid)
A7
If our love died, would 
that be the worst thing? 
 (Nymph then a virgin,
 nurse then a servant)
Bm              D
For somebody I thought
 was my saviour           
  (Just an appendage,
 live to attend him)
    A7                 A
You sure make me do a whole
 lot of labour       
  (so that he never
 lifts a finger)
Bm                     D
The callous skin on my hands
 is cracking        
  (Twenty-four-seven
 baby machine)
G                 A
If our love ends, would 
that be a bad thing?    
  (So he can live out
 his picket fence dreams)
Bm              DM7
And the silence haunts 
our bed chamber        
    (It's not an act of 
love if you make her)
G               A              Bm
You make me do too much labour