When I listen to the Beatles 

I see my dad’s old record player

And going through his LP collection

My seven year old self begging

Please please let me listen to the Beatles.

When I listen to the Beatles

I’m a young teenager on holiday once more

In the back seat of the family car

Driving rain on Welsh mountain roads

Cassette tapes playing, our own ticket to ride. 

When my dad listens to the Beatles 

His grey thinning hair once again a mop of dark curls

Sharp-suited in the smoky clubs of his youth

The Sixties music is fresh, brand new and exciting

And he meets my mother for the first time on the dance-floor.

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom