My Time Ain’t Yours

[Verse 1]
You call at midnight
Like I’m on your shift
You say you “need me”
Then you ghost
Then you drift
You love my patience
Like it grew on your shelf
You wanna borrow my heartbeat
But you don’t bring yourself
[Chorus]
My time ain’t yours
Get your hands off my hours
You ain’t my god
You don’t get that kind of power
You can keep your chaos
You can keep your selfish hell
Take your maybe
Take your baby voice
And go fuck yourself
[Verse 2]
You double-book me
With your on-again flings
Then come back crawling
Like I owe you things
You turn your silence
Into some kind of test
I’m not your practice love
I’m not your second-best
[Chorus]
My time ain’t yours
Get your hands off my hours
You ain’t my god
You don’t get that kind of power
You can keep your chaos
You can keep your selfish hell
Take your drama
Take your mama’s voice
And go fuck yourself
[Bridge]
You say “don’t take it personal”
But baby
That’s the trick
You treat me like a vending machine
Push a button
Think I’ll click
I’m done explaining
Done reframing
Done rescuing your pride (yeah)
If you can’t show up steady
Then you can step aside
[Chorus]
My time ain’t yours
Get your hands off my hours
You ain’t my god
You don’t get that kind of power
You can keep your chaos
You can keep your selfish hell
Take your maybe
Take your baby voice
And go fuck yourself (oh yeah)
Take your maybe
Take your baby voice
And go fuck yourself

rock, Sultry female vocals over a woozy trip-hop groove with dusty drums and rubbery bass; verses ride a tight blues-funk guitar riff and subtle Rhodes swells. Choruses explode into gritty indie-rock with overdriven guitars, tambourine, and stacked harmonies on the hook. Bridge strips back to bass, rimshots, and reverb-drenched vocal before a final full-band chorus hits hard and ends on a sharp stop., indie rock, funk, blues, trip hop