I know, I'm just the childish toy of amusement.
I know, I am worn out and broken now.
I know, my music... The sound that makes him happy seems to be wearing off.
I know, that there are better things out there.
But what a music box I could have been, if only he'd repair me, if only he'd listen. What a music box I was to him, singing my tunes of childish wonderment. The gentle soothing tones of one you know is always there, until that music box breaks. The tunes end, it's wonderful old-fashioned feeling... Is gone. The music box, I am the music box. Now sitting in a dusty room, untouched, alone. Never to play that music for him again... Because he stopped listening...
The music box starts to rust... The sounds become destroyed, the music is gone. Without sound, is the music box.
Nothing is there for the music box, it's all alone. Broken apart, the music box will never play for him again. Torn apart little music box, that crumbled to pieces.