Arthur has lost his way again:
From where he was to what he should’ve been.
He rejects living his own life, saying,
“It’s too painful to be in the real world.”
So he dreams of ballerinas…and black cars,
But inside he knows he drives his own nails,
And inside he knows that’s where pain hides.
Arthur was raised on Ramen noodles and chicken nuggets
Bought by his dad on Sunday afternoons.
He always loved Sundays, and having someone to talk to.
Now he sleeps all day, hoping this time
A black car opens its big mouth
Or a ballerina asks him if he wants a ride.
And the world rushes by, but Arthur just keeps on dreaming.