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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!)