Back to when black cassette tapes were the norm, back to days when shoddy bootlegs were born, back to corduroys and BMX bikes, back before likes, back before three strikes and you're gone. Scrub it in reverse, pop lyrics layed a curse, back to days when it was supposedly worse-- but still livable. Back to when lovable outweighed residuals, back to happy inspired individuals. Rewind your mind. Counter-clockwise time, spin the left wheel on the pencil's heel, or you'll spell later days for your double A's. Wish there was another way... that button costs a grip. Try to skip, that's another slip, have to hold that mixtape for another trip.
(P.S. Put an eraser on the back of the pencil or it'll fly like a ninja star and your teacher will confiscate your tape.)