| Give me your hand in spirit
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| Give me your hand in flesh
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| Give me your hand in living life
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| Give me your hand in death
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| Give me your hand in grief
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| Give me your hand in grace
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| Give me your hand in relief
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| Give me your hand in faith
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| Baby in a backpack
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| The pack is on the front so it’s a bum bag
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| The bag is higher up and on a chest strap
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| Norman Reedus got that baby
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| In what’s basically a backpack
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| This grey place is
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| Full of grey faces
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| Day changes to night
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| Tonight then they’ll change places
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| Strange cases
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| Of unexplained traces
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| Of our saving grace we remain gracious
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| It’s in our innate natures
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| So we may just make it
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| Through the acres of aches and pains for ages
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| And if it wasn’t for the aegis of fate
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| We’d be just pieces of meat on a plate
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| But we’re so much more
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| When we climb and then find what we look for
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| For the razor’s as fine as a tiger’s claw
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| While the rain in the sky just pours
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| Give me your hand in humility
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| Give me your hand in fear
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| Give me your hand in fragility
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| Give me your hand in tears
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| Give me your hand in candour
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| Give me your hand in pain
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| Give me your hand in the baking sun
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| And give me your hand in the rain
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| Baby in a backpack
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| The pack is on the front so it’s a bum bag
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| The bag is higher up and on a chest strap
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| Norman Reedus got that baby
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| In what’s basically a backpack
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| This rain won’t wash away our sins
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| Whether committed before today or since
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| But all your virtues that you were choosing to hurt you
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| They are cleansed
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| Death usurped life’s throne, overthrown
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| Overgrown, overdosed, obey your prince
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| Human nature’s a frail thing
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| Like a day-old infant pale-skinned
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| Building bridges, building bridges
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| Wielding kids, revealing rifts
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| In the peeling edges of the fabric
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| Of what’s real in the tilt-shift pictures
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| The gods are jilted, it just feels ridiculous
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| Filled with wickedness
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| Realness wilting with willful ignorance
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| Real talk, it will steal your innocence
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| Give me your hand in panic
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| Give me your hand in haste
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| I know you can handle yourself, but damn it
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| Just give me your hand in case
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| Give me your hand in hope
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| Give me your hand in despair
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| Give me your hand, I’ll hand you the rope
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| You can hang with me or hang there
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| Baby in a backpack
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| The pack is on the front so it’s a bum bag
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| The bag is higher up and on a chest strap
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| Norman Reedus got that baby
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| In what’s basically a backpack
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| Death Stranding
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| Grabbing necks, strangling
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| Out of breath, panting
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| Sweat glands in effect and every hair standing up
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| Headbanging like an egg scrambling
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| Dismantling the myth
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| Phantom in the midst
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| Ambience, this anthem is a hit
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| And so I suggest
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| That you better get dancing
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| To the best damn thing ever
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| This planet has left in its habitat
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| The actual sonic manifestation of a panic attack
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| Dismantling the tabernacle of rational thought
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| Everything that’s ever happened has warped
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| There’s a tap at the door
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| You better answer it, it’s an evangelist
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| Bearing a manuscript
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| And if he’s left hanging for a little too long
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| There’ll be death stranding, you’ll be gone
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| Give me your hand in dignity
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| Give me your hand in doubt
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| Give me a hand in giving me
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| Whatever gifts you’re handing out
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| Give me your hand in sorrow
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| Give me your hand and say
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| That you’ll give me your hand tomorrow
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| Once you give me your hand today
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| Baby in a backpack
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| The pack is on the front so it’s a bum bag
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| The bag is higher up and on a chest strap
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| Norman Reedus got that baby
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| In what’s basically a backpack |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Give Me Your Hand (Baby In a Backpack), artist - Dan Bull. Album song Generation Gaming XX: The Next Generation (Gaming), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп