His palms are sweaty, gun’s weak, armor’s heavy There's vomit in his helmet already, Cicero confetti He's nervous, but on Mar’s surface he looks calm and ready to drop bombs, But he keeps on forgetting to duck down, Bravo Team laughs so loud He jumps but the Fist of Havoc won't come out He's choking how, Hunters, Warlocks joking now The clock's run out, time's up, over, bloah! Snap back to normality, in orbit, no gravity Without brutality, he choked He's so mad, but he D’oh! gave up that Easy, yo! Like a gun with no scope, a sad Titan, no hope It don't matter, he's dope He knows that but he's broke Someday a lame trope When he goes back to his common ship, that's when it's Back to the grind again, yo Bohemian Rhapsody Galileo capture this moment, Mama Mia don't pass him You better…