I Deserve the Effort
Track 6 of Spoiled Rotten
[ Lyrics ]
It’s not about cash, it’s about care… You said, ‘I’m not rich,’ like that clears the air, like love shows up in envelopes with tears. I don’t need roses, I need you to *know*— chamomile, not green, when the night starts to show. You text at 2 a.m. ‘You on my mind’— but was it just wine, or did you re-think last time? 'Cause showing up late don’t mean you showed at all, and silence don’t speak louder when it’s been this long. I kept score once, now I just see the trail— the ones who said ‘you’re worth it’ but never made it real. So don’t flatter me with grand someday plans, I’d rather have your hand now than your heart in advance. I deserve the effort, not the afterthought, not the ‘I’ll try next time’ when the moment was lost. It’s not about cash, it’s about care, the way you hold space like you’re already there. I deserve the effort, not the promise of love— actual presence, the push from above. Heard you drove past my building, just to see the light, but forgot to call—again—you were ‘so tired last night.’ If your fatigue fits better than my need to be seen, then maybe you’re not the one I’ve been clearing the scene. I used to take crumbs, call it romance, call it fate, now I see crumbs are just crumbs—no matter the plate. I don’t need you perfect, I need you present, the text when you land, the call when it's tense. The note in my bag, the song you sent — proof you were *in* it, not just pretend. I deserve the effort, not the afterthought, not the ‘I’ll try next time’ when the moment was lost. It’s not about cash, it’s about care, the way you hold space like you’re already there. I deserve the effort, not the promise of love— actual presence, the push from above. That girl in the dress—they said she was spoiled. Now I know: she just wanted love that was styled with attention, with detail, with hands that would *try*, not just say ‘I adore you’ while letting me die in the quiet, the cold, the unmarked days— love’s not love if it shows up in shades. I deserve the effort, not the afterthought, not the ‘we’ll fix it next week’ when I’ve been distraught. It’s not about cash, it’s about care, the way you show up—*every single time*, not just rare. I deserve the effort, not the echo of love— I want the heartbeat, the hands, the shove. So if you can’t bring the effort… then don’t bring your love. It’s not about cash… it’s about care.