The needle races along the grooves in the vinyl,
And I hear a song.
It's B.B. King with his electric blues and his baritone growl.
It strikes my back and crawls up my spine,
And touches the very fabric of my soul.
And I hear a song.
It's B.B. King with his electric blues and his baritone growl.
It strikes my back and crawls up my spine,
And touches the very fabric of my soul.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
dakotawright
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