O! say can you play ’til the dawn’s early light,
After PlayStation failed and the Netflix stopped streaming?

Whose flawed shapes and bright sounds through the querulous night,
O’er the joysticks we launched dark vulgarities screaming?

And our sockets’ red stare, Cheetos dust in our hair,
Gave proof through the sprites that it’s hip to be square.

O! say does that wire-tangled gamer yet slave,
O’er the bland obsolete without checkpoint or save?

ΒΆ Space Invaders Flag at Headline Shirts