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Warped and scratched and out of date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fading in and out of date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Auctioned off and out of date

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Warped and scratched and out of date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