
[Intro] Arabella, listen up—this is love with a warning label I brought the groceries, you brought the excuses to the table [Verse 1] My fiancée Arabella got the kitchen on strike Pan in the cupboard, takeout every night Says, “I’ll cook tomorrow,” tomorrow never came The smoke alarm knows your name better than I do, same I’m peeling back the foil, you’re scrolling on your throne Microwave dinner got more heat than the home You call it “saving time,” I call it culinary crime Even the garlic bread is filing for a new life [Chorus] Arabella, what you doing? Better hear this beat No supper on the table and there’s hair around your feet You say, “Maybe later,” but the bedroom door stays shut I’m laughing through the chaos, baby, what the—what? [Verse 2] Feet so hairy, hobbit asked, “Can I get those back?” Little curls on the carpet leaving evidence on track Barefoot through the hallway, nature documentary scene I need hiking boots indoors just to keep the floor clean And when the lights go low, you’re suddenly asleep Blanket pulled up high, promises buried deep I’m not demanding magic, I’m requesting some spark You put “do not disturb” on the whole damn dark [Chorus] Arabella, what you doing? Better hear this beat No supper on the table and there’s hair around your feet You say, “Maybe later,” but the bedroom door stays shut I’m laughing through the chaos, baby, what the—what? [Bridge] But I love you, little menace, don’t mistake the tone Even when your cooking leaves the fire brigade on the phone Trim the forest, make a meal, let the romance reboot Then I’ll take back every bar and bring dessert to the room [Verse 3] This ain’t a breakup track, it’s a household audit Your apron’s looking lonely, go ahead and get up off it One pot, two plates, three chances to impress And maybe wear some slippers for the sake of cleanliness You got the sweetest smile and the strangest little ways You turn a normal Tuesday into seven messy days So Arabella, hear me, beneath the jokes and drums: I’m roasting you because you’re the one I’m coming home to, love [Final Chorus] Arabella, now you’re cooking—let the whole room eat Hairy feet in slippers, stepping clean across the beat Bedroom door unlocked, bring a little fire with the trust I was talking all that mess ’cause you’re my favorite fuss [Outro] Arabella, pass the plate And maybe… keep the bedroom door open tonight
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