To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
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Comments (4)
remcv8
Talent!!!
Abraham
Very nice :) J-L
vapo
Excellent render. Just one note - those records look more like cd's that old 78 black records...
RobinOberg
Yes, colour of the records (probably not vinyl) should be black, and the label om them should probably be a litte smaller.