In a closet, stuffed in bags,
My records gather dust.
The player’s gone and speakers, too,
But keeping them’s a must.
My friend is giving hers away,
But on the other side,
My sister got my cousin’s batch,
Passed to her when he died.
I hear that vinyl’s coming back,
Yet those of us of age,
Remember our collections,
Adding groups we saw on stage.*
It was a thrill to hear a song
And buy a new LP,
Which way back then was how
We gained accessibility.
A needle on a record,
Careful, so it wouldn’t scratch,
Did provide a magic feeling that
No other modes can match.
*Often on The Ed Sullivan Show
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