Sterves of Neel

As I stand their my stomach starts to quiver.
My mongue in my touth gets dry
My hands are clam and coldy
My feart heats baster
Down swores peat on the nose of my tip
Knaky shees, my are they now will be do um
Flutterbies tance in my dummy
Fzzt
Synapses misfire in my, um, thingy
My seye nevelop a tervous dwitch
Rettahc ot nigeb hteet ym
My hands are clam and coldy
I begin to begin repeat to begin to repeat myself
Nervous? Me?
No, I'm fine.
I've got sterves of neel!