Ensign, there's no need to beam down
I said, ensign, and be a hole in the ground
I said, ensign, you don't have to be bound
For a Delta Quadrant tombstone

Ensign, in Machine you can lurk
I said, ensign, when you're tired of work
You can chill there, and your job will be done
'Cos she'll find your ways all futile

Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine
Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine

She has everything
That a man could enjoy
And she hangs out with all the boys

Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine
Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine

You don't have to be hurt
You can hang up your shirt
You can stand down your red alert

Ensign, once you drooled over Kes
I said, ensign, but that was a lot less
I said, ensign, than you do now, confess!
But you got to know it's futile

Seven, does it all by herself
I said, ensign, put your shirt on the shelf
And just go home, now your quarters' roseate
And your chores will be done by her

So hand it over to
Seven of Nine
Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine

She has everything
That a man could enjoy
And she hangs out with all the boys

Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine
Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine

You don't have to be hurt
You can hang up your shirt
You can stand down your red alert

Don't try, walk a mile in her shoes
I said, ensign, to pick up any clues
You know, no man, here can do what she does
And her catsuit is just too tight

You don't, wanna be a red Borg
I said, ensign, stay away from the Morgue
Just be happy, all you rubicund guys
You're all nincompoops in her eyes

So hand it over to
Seven of Nine
Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine

She has everything
That a man could enjoy
And she hangs out with all the boys

Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine
Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine

You don't have to be hurt
You can hang up your shirt
You can stand down your red alert

Just hand it over to
Seven of Nine!



© Peter Andersson 2002