[Verse 1] Good to meet you, cordial greetings (Hi!) They call me Gordon Freeman And up until this morning I was an ordinary normal human Eating and reading the ingredients on a box of cereals Then heading off to the Office of Anomalous Materials Realise I’m late so I’ll have to catch you later Gotta catch a train to Black Mesa’s anti-mass chamber Put on my hazmat in case the vat breaks ‘cause that’s dangerous You’d have to evade the blast radius of a resonance cascade that’s The last stage of – Ah, ahh! It’s . . . it’s actually, it’s actually happening Th-this is not good! This is – shit Wake up in the chamber with a bad head Everybody in the lab dead I better had fled, this is dead rad Get it? Dead rad, hit a headcrab With a crowbar, I’m a lonestar Yo, guard! Gotta go, but I’ll owe you a postcard Oh darn! Life is so hard, with no halves Let alone half, like a diet with low carbs But I like it so far Life now has a worth and a purpose Find out what on earth is occurring Wipe out any vermin that’s stirring Fly now to the surface and hurrry There’s a person that’s lurking, queer Think I’ve seen him working here Gee, man, I’m not really certain what he’s observing But I’m going to persevere, though I’m mere- Ly an engineer, I’ll end your career
[Verse 2] Damn, everybody’s after me Guess that’s the way it has to be From Black Ops to G-Man and all these dastardly Bastard beings, masked marines I’m blasting things with SPAS-12s Then take a break to recharge my shield and grab health Electric impulses convulse with the most violent sound Sending houndeyes to the pound, firing rounds Sliding round mines, if life has half a meaning, well I’ve found mine Bouncing through the sky so high that I’m on cloud nine Low gravity provides some downtime to hit the ground I am bringing down giants as if they’re fricking houseflies Hitch a ride inside a monorail car Swinging off a tentacle like ahhhhhhhh! I get in the ring with anybody, man, who’s on next? I’ll wreck you, trekking from the land of Xen to Lambda Complex Hang on one sec, I think I’ve got the wrong specs That baby looks gargantuan, these lenses can’t be convex Imagine the conception; that must have been some sex Not to mention giving birth to it; how much can bums stretch? But enough talk of proportions and awkward contortions To pull the portal shut calls for the goriest abortion