His palms are sweaty, knees weak, Buster Sword is heavy
He's vomited from motion-sickness already, Tifa's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and edgy
To drop Omnislash, but he keeps on forgetting
Whose memories he stole, the whole Sector 7 goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but "Not interested" is all that comes out
He's cross-dressing, how? Don Corneo's picking him now
The Limit Gauge runs out, time's up, over, blaow
Snap back to the Lifestream, oh! There goes Aerith
Oh! There goes Sephiroth, he choked
He's so mad, but he won't give up that Black Materia, no