Seventy-Eights Poem by Randy Johnson

(This is a fictional poem)

I just bought a record player but it won't play my seventy-eights.
It only plays thirty-threes and forty-fives and that's something I hate.
I have over a hundred seventy-eights with some terrific singers.
But to be able to play them, I have to spin the wheel really fast with my finger.
My hand is getting tired and this sure does aggravate.
I want a record player that will play my damn seventy-eights.