Arthur read stories he got from the shelf

In the gingerbread house of the men in between

Making his mind up to keep to himself

And somewhere the future had been



Pinches of salt

Nobody's fault

Just the tune of the moon on the ocean



One year quite suddenly out of the blue

The phone box grew curtains with Sanderson prints

And designers of countryside loaded the view

With 'sort of' decisions and hints

And Arthur slept in on the edge of his seat

Way back in his mind where the butterflies flew

Bread non-commital to live nice and neat

With lots of his dreams coming true



Pinches of salt

Nobody's fault

Just the tune of the moon on the ocean



Then came the day of the gig on the stage

The butterflies fluttered and scenery shook

Shapes became colours and turning a page

Wasn't just quite by the book



But Arthur was sure

There must be some more

Pinches of salt

Nobody's fault

As the wolves of the law

Blew down the door

With the tune of the moon on the ocean