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One, two, three, go!
No more discs on the shelf
Only caring 'bout their wealth
They're locking up the gate
Coming January twenty-eight (yeah)
Killing the physical, locking the door We won't buy your lies anymore
You've turned your back,
you've lost your grip We're jumping off this sinking ship!
Paying full price for a digital lease
While our collection pieces burn in peace
Every disc we owned is thrown away No more games we can
actually play
(no way!)
Killing the physical, locking the door We won't buy your lies anymore
You've turned your back,
you've lost your grip We're jumping off this sinking ship!
No disc, no rights Just fading screens under flashing lights
No disc, no rights
Killing the physical, locking the door We won't buy your lies anymore
You've turned your back,
you've lost your grip We're jumping off this sinking ship!
Twenty-eight, it's over! (over!)