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• Artiste: Stolen Babies
• Titre: Hand It Over
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Now it's serious, though not so much belated, Your face may be something, but your value is corroding, And all that your living for is fading faster than you But you still some, and you whine delusional, inbred, impatient, you say "Hand it over, and I wait now. And I've paid, paid my dues." And the scales on your body are flaking off as you're going off Laughing it off at another's expense as you shed All that your living for is all that's about you And it doesn't matter what anyone's going through cause you've earned it now "Hand it over, and I wait now. And I've paid, paid my dues." And what do you have to prove? Your world revolves around something untrue. Milk the fading scene, until it's rot ages with you. And everyone has moved on, but you still remark, "Hand it over, and I wait now. And I've paid, paid my dues."