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?