Opera on the Top Floor

Status quo blasts from a jukebox

The lads I grew up with play air guitar, conjuring youth

Hutched at the bar, I hear dreams that turned to dust

Till I ring out for last call

A pint takes a minute to settle

The creamy head rises and lands like a chorus of hums

Regulars catching my eye to change their tune

But I ain't a conductor

I got opera on the top floor

Violins cry and arias explode

I'm riding with those Valkyries to Lohengrin

I got my own Valhalla in Listowel

The boyos sing Elvis and skiffle

Perched with their porter like vulture chicks waiting to hatch

Races and darts don't soothe the soul

I'm a fish out of water

A child of Pragues beedy eye judges

He might blow the whistle if my world collided with theirs

After the final, John gave us a drunk Nessun Dorm

And for once I felt kinship

I got opera on the top floor

Violins cry and arias explode

I'm riding with those Valkyries to Lohengrin

I got my own Valhalla in Listowel

And that opera on the top floor

No one knows, it’s under lock and key

The needle hits the vinyl, I’m away on the wind

Every secret needs a sanctuary