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
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