Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that


Video did kill the radio star.
What’s left is a corporate corpse,
Taken over by accountants who,
In the words of Oscar Wilde,
Know the price of everything
And the value of nothing.

Video dropped radio into a hole
And the internet sealed it there.

Who still listens to these straited waves?
Fewer and fewer.
Right wing nuts.
Left wing nuts.
Old rockers.
Alter cockers.

People still ride horses, you know,
But it’s just a hobby.

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