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All About Arthur - Electric Bard

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He checks the brass deadbolt in three precise clicks Picks at the dial till the wireless transmission quits Leaves the zinc kettle lukewarm, leaves the document blank Stares forty minutes at a shadow on the mud-bank Apologizes to the hatstand when pivoting around Shrinks in his woolen collar at a soft domestic sound Hesitates at thresholds like a traveler without a pass Tallies up his sugar by the granule in the glass Buffers every phrase before the syllable departs Tucking tiny panic down inside the body charts Never commits to a statement, never takes a side Stowing tiny ledgers where the micro-treasons hide Squandering the morning estimating the expense Of lingering suspicious on the dark side of the fence Testing every floorboard for an unexpected creak Practicing the stammer he will manufacture when we speak Who The Fock Is Arthur To Be Standing In The Way? Who The Fock Is Arthur With Nothing Left To Say? Stacking Up The Vouchers While The Plaster Starts To Cave Shuffling Down The Hallway To An Unremembered Grave Every step he mumbles, everything he clutches Who The Fock Is Arthur And Why's He On Crutches? Every petty terror docketed inside the vault Every hesitation engineered into a fault Look At What You're Doing, Who The Fock Is Arthur? A footstep in the darkness and an outline in the chalk All the stifled shudder and the clutter in the talk Arthur, What You Doin'? Who The Fock Is Arthur? ...Tell Me All About Arthur... He keeps the copper burner turned down to a pinpoint speck Scrutinizes tea tins by the gram along the deck Rehearses little answers till his syntax tangles thick Flinching from the cadence of an ordinary clock tick Arrives a full hour early just to lurk beside the gate Treats a chipped enamel saucer like a verdict from the state Averts the pupil quickly when the grocer asks his name Nursing an inheritance of fabricated shame Never drops a query, never signals a design Shrinking to a footnote on an unrecorded line Never commits to a statement, never takes a side Stowing tiny ledgers where the micro-treasons hide Squandering the morning estimating the expense Of lingering suspicious on the dark side of the fence Testing every floorboard for an unexpected creak Practicing the stammer he will manufacture when we speak Who The Fock Is Arthur To Be Standing In The Way? Who The Fock Is Arthur With Nothing Left To Say? Stacking Up The Vouchers While The Plaster Starts To Cave Shuffling Down The Hallway To An Unremembered Grave Every step he mumbles, everything he clutches Who The Fock Is Arthur And Why's He On Crutches? Every petty terror docketed inside the vault Every hesitation engineered into a fault Look At What You're Doing, Who The Fock Is Arthur? A footstep in the darkness and an outline in the chalk All the stifled shudder and the clutter in the talk Arthur, What You Doin'? Who The Fock Is Arthur? ...Tell Me All About Arthur... Too timorous to venture, too stubborn to accede Whittling down ambition to a paralytic need Polishing the rivets on an empty pewter shield Cowering before the harvest ripened in the field Master of evasions and an expert in the dodge A solitary squatter in an uninspected lodge Counting out the minutes as the afternoon decays Pawning all the future for a numbness that repays Who The Fock Is Arthur To Be Standing In The Way? Who The Fock Is Arthur With Nothing Left To Say? Stacking Up The Vouchers While The Plaster Starts To Cave Shuffling Down The Hallway To An Unremembered Grave Every step he mumbles, everything he clutches Who The Fock Is Arthur And Why's He On Crutches? Every petty terror docketed inside the vault Every hesitation engineered into a fault Look At What You're Doing, Who The Fock Is Arthur? A footstep in the darkness and an outline in the chalk All the stifled shudder and the clutter in the talk Arthur, What You Doin'? Who The Fock Is Arthur? ...Tell Me All About Arthur... Who the fock is Arthur? ...Tell me all about Arthur... ...Arthur... ...Who the fock is Arthur?...