Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted
In one moment
Would you capture it or just let it slip?
His plams are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgettin
What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
He's chokin, how everybody's jokin now
The clocks run out, times up...
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