Life is like a record spinning on the old phonographs of old,
Remember when you started out and you were young and bold.
Trying new things, listening to the rhythms of your heart,
Adding new things to your life like buying at ala carte.
Listening to love songs and feeling the ups and downs of emotion,
A unique pattern of life, looking for your pairing, someone worthy of devotion.
Patterns of life illustrated on a plastic disk with a needle making noise,
The interweaving of life, love and supposed happiness between the girls and the boys.
And then finally you hit the perfect groove, the matching balance of love and affection,
The ups and downs of courting and marriage, filled with hopes and rejection.
Do animals in the wild feel the emotions of mankind,
They do on occasion show affection for one another, they give us a sign.
There is drama in the world like a record broken and worn,
There is nothing as depressing as a heart which has been torn.
And then after many years, the record faded without grooves or thread,
It fades from memory, broken like a book torn and unread.
I have been married for forty five years and my record is thin,
Bang me with a hammer and I am brittle, my skin like tin.
But it has been an incredible ride and I would not change my life,
I have been blessed by a good woman, children, and even some strife.
A good spin on the old record player, the needle still playing a song,
A life of many ups and some downs, but a life still going strong.