A platter of black plastic
Spinning circles at a speed
That fill the air with music
The inspiration that I need

I close my eyes and listen
To every hiss and pop
I keep the arm retracted
So the music doesn't stop

The little worn out player
With the sweet distorted sound
Takes me back to being younger
It's where memories are found

It's magic made of plastic
Spinning out musical streams
That box that pops and crackles
And fills my vinyl dreams