Hey, Arnold,
What’s it like to have a football head?
I don’t ask to be mean; just need to describe the shape
Wouldn’t be mean if it wasn’t for the way Helga uses it
Even then, she says it ‘cause she loves you
You secretly know she loves you, don’t you?
What’s it like to know you’re loved?
Hey, Arnold,
What’s it like to have an alarm clock that says your name
in a cool room everyone wishes was theirs?
What’s it like to be the main character?
To be trusted and sought after?
For everyone to want your advice?
What’s it like to know you’re loved?
Hey, Arnold,
How do you stay so calm?
When she mocks your head shape,
when the mean fifth graders scare you?
How do you stay calm and still command a room?
I stay calm and no one cares
What’s it like for everyone to know that you deserve respect,
that you deserve to be honored?
What’s it like to know you’re loved?
Hey, Arnold,
What’s it like to not be real?
To exist in 2D,
smothered by a flat screen
and still be so loved?
What’s it like for people to cherish you in your world
and praise you in mine?
To have your face on t-shirts,
your theme song hummed by strangers,
to be drawn, molded, sewn?
What’s it like to know you’re loved?
Maybe you don’t know
After all, you don’t exist
You’ve never seen those t-shirts
You’ve never heard the mean girl confess her love for you
You have no idea how many people care for you
You should answer better than anyone, but you can’t
Maybe no one can
Maybe no one knows
What it’s like to know you’re loved
