Texty

We argue in the kitchen about whether to have children About the world ending, and the scale of my ambition And how much is art really worth? When the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most But you need your rotten heart Your dazzling pain like diamond rings You need to go to war to find material to sing I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king I need my golden crown of sorrow My bloody sword to swing My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology 'Cause I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king But a woman is a changeling, always shifting shape Just when you think you have it figured out Something new begins to take And what strange claws are these scratching at my skin? I never knew my killer would be coming from within But I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king And I was never as good as I always thought I was But I knew how to dress it up I was never satisfied, it never let me go Just dragged me by my hair and back on with the show
Writer(s): Jack Antonoff, Florence Welsh Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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