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Perfect Love

de Kimbra

Work, work, work, work, work, work

It’s all about
Work, work, work, work, work, work, work

It’s all about (slum love)
Work, work, work, work, work, work

It’s all about (slum love)
Work, work, work, work, work, work

I never wanna be a millionaire
But I could use a break
You’ve had me pumpin' iron,
Workin’ the mines
From the night until the break of day
Baby shackles on my ankles
And ropes ’round my hands
This ain’t some kind of game
Cause you’re too tired for that

Why do I have to always pick up the pieces of your heart, yeah
Why do you always have to be so derogatory and tear me apart
My friends all think we are in love
Reading horoscopes like they were gospel
We’re living in the first world
But you can make a third world girl out of me
Slum love

Some kind of slum love
Some kind of slum love
Some kind of slum love

I never wanted a utopia
Or a rise and demise
Its like I’m walking the wire
You keep feeding the fire
With your doubts about fidelity

You’re a little bit older
But that don’t mean a thing
We still bicker like children
Then wake up and do it all again

Why do I always have to be like the heroine - or the rescuer?
Why do I always fall for you when you're making breakfast or driving my car?
They promised us the world; they told us we’d find a love unconditional
Maybe I should just count my lucky stars and be glad I have someone

And when I shout, you’ve learned to scream
Toxic passion then epiphany

Slum love
Some kind of slum love

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