I'm only dreaming

I don’t know how it began but TP, MWP and SK were playing in this small hall. PK must have still been in the tropics. I was there with a friend from grade school, Teresa from Veracruz. We were very excited that the Church were playing in this small venue because they had just finished playing this huge arena and we were left to watch them through binoculars. Something we did not enjoy. The three lads were in white and at one point Steve handed Teresa and I some maracas. Mine had a wolf’s head and was incredibly ornate and beautiful Teresa’s was a bit more common though with a flawless red glaze. Steve asked us to keep time for the next song and I said, ‘Oh no, this may be another Jesus Tambourine story!’ He laughed and said not to worry. So then MWP, standing where PK usually does, starts this gorgeous acoustic song called New York (not R.A.’s song) and T and I start to keep time. We’re doing great until the very end, and then everyone falls out laughing.
Head back to my house and find out my gran has fallen asleep in front of the tv. This gran supported her family by giving guitar lessons and she was quite accomplished. Could play any style of music and had an impeccable ear. She picked out the name Cecilia for me, patron Saint of the musicians. MWP woke her up and they started to talk about music, Marty in his broken Spanish, it was brilliant. My gran asked him to get her guitar and as he disappeared up the stairs I woke up.