Auntie History collects Edison cylinders
She can hear them without a machine
Good old Mother Machree
And the lovely sound
Of hay scratching hay
Like all hobbies
One can’t get away from it
There’s no criterion of judgment
By the light of the silvery moon
Nearer my God to Thee
The hours so gentle
She thinks she might make a hat
Entirely of cylinders
Just to hear voices compete
Old folks at home
I’m forever blowing bubbles
Come where my love lies dreaming
Let’s cakewalk
Oh yes
Planet of the Blind 