It was the last of the cartridges
We'd blow into when dust got in
And stack in rows of gray
And then pop 'em in and play

We'd stay up late nights with Tony Hawk
Super Smashin' and then Star Fox
No sleep for GoldenEyes
Sneakin' up on Russian spies…Slap!

Then we waved goodbye to analog
Now everything is digital and dull
And there's no more drawers full of clunky charm
Why isn't this a cause for alarm?