Verse 1**
Well, I was just a kid in a small town,
Dreamin’ of the sound that could lift me off the ground,
Columbia House sent those flyers in the mail,
"Ten records for a penny," oh, I could not fail.
So I grabbed my pen and I wrote down a name,
Jimmy, Johnny, and Billy, I was playin’ the game.
**Chorus**
In the shadows of my room, I’d spin those vinyl dreams,
With every scratch and pop, I was livin' in the seams.
From Springsteen to the Stones, I was buildin’ my own home,
With a little bit of luck and a whole lot of hope,
I was rollin’ through the night, my heart strung on a rope.
**Verse 2**
Sneakin’ down to the mailbox, my heart raced with the thrill,
Each package was a treasure, oh, it gave me a chill.
Mama thought I was studyin’, but I was lost in the sound,
With every record I unwrapped, I felt freedom all around.
I’d blast ‘em on repeat, in the glow of my old lamp,
Livin’ for the music, in my secret little camp.
**Chorus**
In the shadows of my room, I’d spin those vinyl dreams,
With every scratch and pop, I was livin' in the seams.
From Springsteen to the Stones, I was buildin’ my own home,
With a little bit of luck and a whole lot of hope,
I was rollin’ through the night, my heart strung on a rope.
**Bridge**
Oh, those days they felt so wild,
With every turn of the record, I was a rebellious child.
Hidin’ my aliases, just a kid with a plan,
In the heart of the music, I found who I am.
**Verse 3**
Now I look back on those days, with a smile and a sigh,
How I learned to find my voice, beneath the endless sky.
Every note and every lyric, a piece of my soul,
In the echoes of the past, I finally feel whole.
So here’s to the records, the stories they told,
From Columbia House dreams to the legends of old.
**Chorus**
In the shadows of my room, I’d spin those vinyl dreams,
With every scratch and pop, I was livin' in the seams.
From Springsteen to the Stones, I was buildin’ my own home,
With a little bit of luck and a whole lot of hope,
I was rollin’ through the night, my heart strung on a rope.
**Outro**
Yeah, here's to the music that carried me through,
Those records from Columbia, and the dreams they drew.
With every spin on the turntable, I’ll never forget,
The kid with the aliases, ain’t done dreamin’ yet.
WilliamHalley