The Feminine Urge - The Last Dinner Party

Lyrics by：Abigail Morris/Emily Roberts/Georgia Davies/Aurora Nishevci/Lizzie Mayland/Rhys Downing

Composed by：Abigail Morris/Emily Roberts/Georgia Davies/Aurora Nishevci/Lizzie Mayland/Rhys Downing

Produced by：James Ford

A room at dusk

Mastering the art of lying still

Breathe like a girl

'Til my lungs fill

Oh pull your boots up boys

And push me down

I'm only here for your entertainment

I am a dark red liver stretched out on a rock

All the poison I convert it and I turn it to love

Here comes the feminine urge I know it so well

To nurture the wounds my mother held

Oh ballerina bend under the weight of it all

Ain't it fun to hold the world in your hands

Do you feel like a man when I can't talk back

Do you want me or do you want control

Failure to commit to the role I admit

Was a failure you achieved on your own

Do you want me to care when you just disappear

I can't win them all

I can't win them all

Run 'til I fall

How I wish the trees would swallow me

Make me a forest take away my soul

I could never give the curse to her

I- I could never live with the guilt of lying

That people are kind

I am a dark red liver stretched out on a rock

All the poison I convert it and I turn it to love

Here comes the feminine urge I know it so well

To nurture the wounds my mother held

Oh ballerina bend under the weight of it all

Ain't it fun to hold the world in your hands

Do you feel like a man when I can't talk back

Do you want me or do you want control

Failure to commit to the role I admit

Was a failure you achieved on your own

Do you want me to care when you just disappear

I can't win them all

I can't win them all

I am a dark red liver

Ooh

Stretched out on the rocks

Oh-oh-ooh

All the poison I convert it and I turn it to love

Ooh-oh-ooh-ooh

Here comes the feminine urge

I know it so well

Oh-oh-ooh

To nurture the wounds my mother held

Give me that dark red liquor

Stretched out on the rocks

All the poison I convert it and I turn it to love

Here comes the feminine urge

I know it so well

To nurture the wounds my mother held