Turntable Blues

I haven’t played a record
In more years than I can say,
Yet still I mourn the record player
That we ditched today.

It sat there in the living room
Accumulating dust,
But since we’re spiffing up the place
I really must adjust.

I’ll box my records in a crate
And hide them out of sight.
I have no way to play them,
But to toss them’s just not right.

Though music’s always in my life,
I’ve said goodbye to vinyl
And now that my turntable’s gone,
That farewell feels more final.