Muffled Ephiphany

It’s 1972 again and I’m back at the top of our stairs
It’s half past 7 on a Sunday night
I’m not allowed in the room, I’m not Sixteen
But I can dream that I’ll hear those sounds that run around my head
Through closed doors to my empty bed
What’s that sound? I never heard that before!
It’s a hallowed moment, the 'Eureka!' I’ve waited for
Shit… my mum’s making coffee now, I’d better hide inside my room
It’s like straining to hear the eulogies when you’re the one inside the tomb
But later, it comes around again
They’re on side two now (they must be, 'cos the singer sounds the same)
Caught in this music, lost in the sound and the words and the song
This doesn’t feel wrong
And I’ll go back to bed after I’ve heard… the Mellotron