33,45,78

I'm spinning like an old turn table
Three speeds going nowhere fast
I hesitate at the door to the future
Holding on to my bitter-sweet past
Me and all of the percolators
Me and all of the rotary phones
Me and all of my vinyl records
Warped and scratched and out of date
33,45,78 goodbye

I got friends from the old home town
We used to work at the home town news
They got houses in a couple of cities
I'm still singing the home town blues
Me and all of the drive in movies
Me and all of the afternoon papers
Me and the free-form radio
fading in and out of date
33,45,78 going gone now

I hear them talk about the great depression
I hear the drumming of the war machine
I wonder if I'm stuck in the past
Or if it all repeats just like a CD

I'm following the railroad line
It's another job and another town
I skip around in record time
and try not to notice the candle burn down
Me and all of the rust belt workers
Me and all of the hot-type printers
Me and all of the family farms
Auctioned off and out of date
33,45,78

Whoa the percolators
Whoa the rotary phones
All of my vinyl records
Warped and scratched and out of date
Yeah I'm a 33,45,78