Cleveland ? Little voices fill the unusually quiet Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on a rare sunny winter morning.

The 3-, 4- and 5-year-olds flock into the hall’s cavernous main floor, where cars from U2’s Zoo TV tour and Phish’s giant hot dog dangle high overhead.

These children don’t know Little Richard from Bo Diddley – not yet.

The house that rock built devotes a lot of attention to honoring the Beatles, the Doors and other legendary artists. Its Toddler Rock program helps fulfill an educational mission that, like a steady bass line, is felt but often goes unnoticed.

The award-winning program, which started in 1999, gives inner city children lessons in music and literacy in an environment that they otherwise wouldn’t experience.

Ruthie Brown, the program’s creator, knew it was working when she heard about a child who said, “That’s my Rock and Roll Hall of Fame” one day while passing the building.

“They felt a part of it,” Brown said. “That’s one of the first requirements for self-esteem.”

The 160 preschoolers spill out of their buses and have the building all to themselves before it opens to the public. They split into groups, and one gaggle makes its way to the rock architects room, where guitars played by John Fogerty and Slash hang on the wall. The children sit cross-legged in a circle, some fidgeting with ID badges around their necks.

They’re oblivious to the nearby urn containing the ashes of disc jockey Alan Freed, who first used the term rock ‘n’ roll. The children happily sing a song with music therapist Deforia Lane, learning to say hello in different languages.

Then Lane pulls out a photo of Billy Joel and the kids shout out his name like he’s Barney or SpongeBob. Joel was part of the week’s lesson when they were learning about the letter “J.”

“He plays the … PIANO! and he likes to … SING!” the children shout, finishing Lane’s sentences.

Lane, who developed the program, has a simple explanation for why tots and rock mix.

“Music is like popcorn. You can’t eat just one,” said Lane, who is director of music therapy at University Hospitals Case Medical Center. “It’s one of those inherent, rhythmic, melodic touchstones in our lives that we can’t avoid.”

Her group has moved on to the letter “K” this morning, and the children are introduced to the music of B.B. King. Lane sings, “I love the letter K. It sounds like Ka, Ka, Ka.”

“A child will sing A-B-C-D-E-F-G long before they learn to recite the alphabet,” she said. “If we can use that concept of rhythm and melody in learning other skills, that’s what we try to do as music therapists to instill some of the pre-literacy skills that we’re working on.”

Two floors up, children are gathered around music therapist Ed Gallagher in a room currently dedicated to a “Help!” Beatles exhibit.

Gallagher plays a recording of Wilbert Harrison’s “Kansas City” and the kids click blue and red sticks in time to the beat as Harrison sings, “I’m going to Kansas City. Kansas City here I come.”

Toddler Rock is careful to stay away from rock ‘n’ roll’s edgier side. The music therapists are unlikely to show photos of Gene Simmons or belt out a Kiss tune anytime soon.