I Don't Need Your Love Lyrics – Six
I Don't Need Your Love Lyrics
Catherine Parr and CompanyYou know I love you, boy
In every single way
Though I love you, boy
I'll miss you every day
Oh I love you, boy
I wish that I could stay with you
And keep the life I made with you
And even though this feels so right
I'm holding back the tears tonight
It's true I'll never be over you
'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you
And now the hope is gone
There's nothing left for me to do
You know it isn't true
But I must say to you
That I don't need your love, no, no
I don't need your love, no, no
It'll never be better than it was, no, no
But I don't need your love, no, no
I've got no choice
With the King I stay alive
Never had a choice
Been a wife twice before, just to survive
I don't have a choice
If Henry says "It's you", then it's you
No matter how I feel
It's what I have to do
But if, somehow, I had that choice
No holding back, I'd raise my voice
I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true
I'll never belong to you
'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new
As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams
To care for you"
"Ha, darling, get a clue
There's nothing you can do
I don't need your love, no, no
No, I don't need you love, no, no
There's nothing left to discuss, no, no
But I don't need your love, no, no"
But I can't say that
Not to the king
So this is goodbye
All my love
Catherine
So I sent that letter to my love
Got married to the king
Became the one who survived
I've told you about my life
The final wife
But why should that story
Be the one I have to sing about
Just to win? I'm out
That's not my story
There's so much more
Remember that I was a writer
I wrote books and psalms and meditations
Fought for female education
So all my women could independently
Study scripture
I even got a woman to paint my picture
Why can't I tell that story?
'Cause in history
I'm fixed as one of six
And without him
I disappear
We all disappear
[Ensemble:]
So we had no choice
But now it's us alone
So we've got no choice
No, we've got no choice
We're taking back the microphone
I'm gonna raise my voice
They always said:
"We need your love"
But it's time for us to rise above
It's not what went down in history
But tonight I'm singing this for me
Henry, yeah, I'm through
Too many times it's been told
And I have had enough
Love stories to get old
And you might think it's tough
But I've got to let your love run cold
We're taking back control (we're taking back control)
You need to know
I don't need your love, no, no
No, I don't need your love, no, no
Can't let it get the better of us, no, no
I don't need your love, no, no
I don't need your love, no, no
No, I don't need your love, no, no
I don't need your love, no, no
I don't need your love
We don't need your love
Song Overview

Song Credits
- Featured Vocal: Izuka Hoyle (as Catherine Parr)
- Ensemble Vocals: Aimie Atkinson, Christina Modestou, Genesis Lynea, Natalie Paris & Renée Lamb
- Writers / Composers: Lucy Moss & Toby Marlow
- Producer: Kenny Wax
- Release Date: September 12 2018
- Album: Six: The Musical – Studio Cast Recording
- Genre: R&B-flavoured pop-theatre ballad
- Label: 6 Music Ltd.
- Length: 4 min 36 sec
- Language: English
- Instrumentation: Sparse piano, airy synth pads, finger-snap drums, gospel-style backing vocals
- Copyright © & ? 2018 6 Music Ltd.
Song Meaning and Annotations

“I Don’t Need Your Love” opens like a late-night confession—gentle keys, soft beat, a wistful sigh from Catherine Parr to her true flame, Thomas Seymour. For thirty seconds it feels like a classic goodbye ballad; then the tempo shifts and she snaps the quill in half. This isn’t a plea to Henry VIII, it’s a manifesto—an exhale from a woman who’s survived five royal ghost stories and refuses to let her own chapter fade behind a husband’s shadow.
The first verse peeks into her private grief: marrying the King means shelving the quiet life she pictured with Thomas. Yet halfway through, the arrangement tightens, the rhythm picks up, and Catherine flips the script. She imagines telling Henry off—“I am not your toy”—before reality yanks her back: she can’t risk that speech and her head in the same week. The tension between those two beats—fantasy defiance and real-world compliance—makes every chord hum.
I don’t need your love, no no / Can’t let it get the better of us
The hook’s double negatives twist into armour. She isn’t erasing love; she’s refusing to let it author her obituary. When the other queens slide in for the final call-and-response, the song blooms into a group reclamation. Six stories once pinned to one man now harmonise into a single “we.”
This pivot from sorrow to solidarity is where the modern pop muscles flex: you can almost feel Destiny’s Child-era girl-group DNA in the stacked harmonies and the self-respect strut that ends the track.
Behind the Composition
Moss and Marlow wanted Catherine’s number to echo contemporary R&B slow-burners—think H.E.R. or early Alicia Keys—but with a Broadway spine. Studio strings sit way in the background; the spotlight stays on vocal phrasing and that half-spoken, half-sung bridge where Parr lists her writing, her advocacy, her art. The shift from minor reflection to major resolve happens on the word “history,” a sneaky little theory nod that her story literally changes key when she reclaims it.
Metaphors and Motifs
- Letter motif: The sung goodbye letter to Thomas frames the song, symbolising agency on parchment even when her spoken voice is censored.
- Toy imagery: Parr rebukes Henry’s pattern—wives discarded like playthings when the novelty fades.
- Microphone hand-off: When the full cast takes over, the mic becomes a crown passed between queens, each lyric another jewel reset.
Annotations
Catherine Parr closes SIX with a letter-turned-anthem that captures her shape-shifting life: twice-widowed survivor, reluctant queen, published author, and finally the woman who slipped Henry’s shadow long enough to marry her true love, Thomas Seymour. When she sighs “Dear Tom” onstage, we hear the ache of a private heart forced to trade romance for royal duty. History loves the headline that she “survived,” yet the finer print shows she paid for that title with every compromise she could stomach.
Unlike Henry’s younger brides, Parr arrived at court in her thirties, smart, pious, and already seasoned by two marriages. Saying no to the king was never a real option; politely declining a Tudor proposal could be fatal. She understood the odds, so she played them. By 1543 she wore the crown, watched over an aging, unpredictable husband, and nursed ambitions the court preferred to ignore.
The opening verse hints at those ambitions. Parr had drafted a future with Seymour in her mind, complete with household and laughter, only to see it dissolved by politics. That tension fuels her refrain, “I don’t need your love,” which is less a jab at Seymour than a declaration that a woman’s worth runs deeper than any man’s approval. For a sixteenth-century widow turned queen, that was a daring thesis.
Parr was also Henry’s first consort to publish under her own name. In Prayers and Meditations she stitched together devotional passages; in the later Lamentations of a Sinner she spoke with a sharper, reform-minded voice. These books, circulated in English rather than Latin, nudged women toward independent study of scripture. A quiet act of rebellion, perhaps, but one that rippled far beyond the palace walls.
The song reminds us she did more than pen theology. She lobbied for female education, gathered scholars, and may even have sat for a woman painter, a novelty at court. Yet classrooms still reduce her to the footnote “the one who survived.” Parr calls out that erasure, asking why she cannot be remembered as the writer, the patron, the thinker.
When the other five queens join her, the track pivots from personal lament to group manifesto. Competition melts into solidarity. Their shared refrain flips the children’s rhyme—divorced, beheaded, died—into something new: we don’t need his love, or your pity, or the neat little boxes textbooks offer.
Parr’s closing lines land like a key turning in a lock. She shifts from “I” to “we,” signaling that reclaiming history is a collective project. The wives refuse to be scenery in Henry’s drama; they step forward, rewriting the script in their own voices.
That choice mirrors Parr’s final real-life pivot. Within months of Henry’s death she married Seymour, found a brief window of happiness, and died after giving birth to her only child. Even that tragedy cannot blunt the song’s spark. I Don’t Need Your Love leaves Parr exactly where she wanted to stand: center stage, pen in hand, telling her own story on her own terms.
Similar Songs

- “Independent Women Part I” – Destiny’s Child
Both tracks switch the focus from romance to self-worth, layering rich harmonies over minimalist beats while itemising achievements beyond men. - “Lost in the Middle” – Waitress Original Cast
Jenna’s late-show ballad mirrors Catherine’s internal tug-of-war: duty vs. personal dreams, soft piano under fire-forged resolve. - “Love on the Brain” – Rihanna
Different era, same ache-to-anthem arc: lush retro instrumentation, a vocal that pivots between vulnerability and steel.
Questions and Answers

- What is the central theme of “I Don’t Need Your Love”?
- Self-definition. Catherine Parr respects love but refuses to let it erase her scholarship, activism, and autonomy.
- Why does the arrangement start tender and end powerful?
- It mirrors Catherine’s journey: private heartache blossoms into collective empowerment once the other queens join.
- Did Catherine Parr really publish books?
- Yes. She wrote Prayers or Meditations (1545) and The Lamentation of a Sinner (1547), becoming England’s first published female author under her own name.
- How does the song connect to modern listeners?
- By blending contemporary R&B grooves with Tudor context, it frames a 500-year-old struggle—women reduced to relationship status—in language any playlist can understand.
- Is the final chorus historically accurate?
- Metaphorically. The six wives never sang together, but their collective “we” spotlights how history often muffles women’s individual achievements behind a king’s biography.