When you hear the twang and rustle
Of the first recorded songs,
Dream and remember someone once told them
They were wrong.
But the voice from the past
Is the proof you can dream,
And make it more real than right now it seems.
There will always be doubters,
And those who tiptoe through life,
But as we stride blindy,
Let us trip and grow stronger
As we disappear into the future mist.