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.