The vow still rings in the ear—you would never break the chain—after the love has already been damned. What the song leaves standing is not a clean breakup but a bind: people who no longer trust each other still cannot fully leave, held by history, blame, and the promise they keep quoting against the present. Damn your love, damn your lies sits beside if you don’t love me now / you will never love me again, so the chain is both accusation and tether. By the end the refrain flips from remembered oath to blunt fact—chain keep us together—while the speakers keep runnin’ in the shadow, bound and fugitive at once.

That reading hardens because the track itself sounds like a joined thing. The music does not plead; it locks into a steady, body-settled groove and holds, as if the arrangement is doing what the lyric admits—the chain keeps them in the same motion even when the words have turned to curse and shadow.