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| 251 12/30/03 Music The record is playing, can�t you hear it? Around and around it spins with no limit, Such sweet music it emits through the air, Bringing a feeling that you can�t compare, Over anyone lucky enough to be let in, And hear the true emotions locked within, Every note being played to form a work of art, That should be marveled for it hits the heart See that tiny needle, doing its job quite well, Making sure you�ll hear music through heaven or hell, Swiftly traveling over dust and debris, Doing its best to give out what needs to be, For it�s the only means to express what lies inside, Hidden in the record that only it can provide, A means for the world to hear its true beauty, And in this the needle always tries to fulfil that duty Though often the record is scratched, you�ll tell right away, You�ll see and hear the needle trying but all in dismay, Of corse now the needle feels its completely at fault, Even the record is complaining and rubbing in some salt, Into the wound that isn�t of their own creation, That now is threatening to destroy the very foundation, Of every hope and dream that could have or would have been, Now stuck in an endless loop seemingly forever in a spin This is where you come in, because you�re standing right there, You�ve been listening and enjoying ever second of it because you care, And also there�s something else which has you locked in a trance, You can�t put your finger on it but now is your time to advance, Just give the needle a little push in the right direction and you�ll see, How the music will continue and everyone will be happy, For nothing can exist totally on its own without help from another, Because you can�t predict the scratches in life from others. |