Arlo Guthrie
Arlo Guthrie (Brooklyn, 10 luglio 1947) è un cantante folk statunitense.
Biografia
Gli inizi
Figlio del cantautore folk Woody Guthrie e della ballerina della Martha Graham Company, Marjorie Mazia Guthrie, inizia a cantare e comporre canzoni da giovanissimo e, anche grazie alle sue origini, riesce a sfondare nel campo della musica inserendosi nella generazione di cantanti folk di cui proprio il padre è capostipite assieme a Pete Seeger e della quale fanno parte cantautori quali Bob Dylan e Joan Baez.Alice's Restaurant
Con la canzone e il film intitolati Alice's Restaurant (1969), Arlo Guthrie ribadisce la sua appartenenza al gruppo di cantanti folk di protesta, lanciando un'invettiva contro la leva obbligatoria e la guerra nel Vietnam, prendendo in giro l'esercito, le istituzioni statunitensi e anche la propria generazione con una simpatica autocritica.Continua sulla strada del folk per tutta la vita, migliorando sempre di più la sua tecnica nel suonare chitarra, pianoforte e armonica a bocca.
Tra le sue canzoni più famose: Alice's Restaurant, The Motorcycle Song, Coming Into Los Angeles (Cantata riscuotendo grande successo al Festival di Woodstock nel 1969) e Last Train.
La collaborazione con Dylan
Come figlio di Woody Guthrie, Arlo ha avuto modo di conoscere da vicino il cantautore Bob Dylan, con il quale ha collaborato fin dai tempi della tournée nel Regno Unito del 1965 immortalata nel film Dont Look Back.Ha poi collaborato nuovamente con Dylan negli anni settanta in occasione della Rolling Thunder Revue, i cui concerti dell'autunno 1975 furono ripresi per poi essere inseriti nel film del 1978, scritto e diretto dallo stesso Dylan, Renaldo and Clara.
Discografia
- Alice's Restaurant (1967)
- Arlo (1968)
- Running Down the Road (1969)
- Washington County(1970)
- Hobo's Lullaby (1972)
- Last of the Brooklyn Cowboys (1973)
- Arlo Guthrie (1974)
- Together in Concert (1975)
- Amigo (1976)
- The Best of Arlo Guthrie (1977)
- One Night (1978)
- Outlasting the Blues (1979)
- Power of Love (1981)
- Precious Friend (1982)
- Someday (1986)
- All Over the World (1991)
- Son of the Wind (1992)
- More Together Again (1994)
- Alice's Restaurant - The Massacree Revisited (1996)
- Mystic Journey (1996)
Promotional photo of Arlo Guthrie
Arlo Davy Guthrie (born July 10, 1947) is an American folk singer-songwriter. Like his father, Woody Guthrie, he is known for singing songs of protest against social injustice. Guthrie's best-known work is his debut piece, "Alice's Restaurant Massacree", a satirical talking blues song about 18 minutes in length that has since become a Thanksgiving anthem. His only top-40 hit was a cover of Steve Goodman's "City of New Orleans". His song "Massachusetts" was named the official folk song of the state in which he has lived most of his adult life. Guthrie has also made several acting appearances. He is the father of four children, who have also had careers as musicians.
Early life
Guthrie was born in Brooklyn, New York, the son of the folk singer and composer Woody Guthrie and Marjorie Mazia Guthrie. His sister is the record producer Nora Guthrie. His mother was a one-time professional dancer with the Martha Graham Company and founder of the Committee to Combat Huntington's Disease, the illness from which Woody Guthrie died in 1967. Arlo's father was from a Protestant family and his mother was Jewish. His maternal grandmother was the renowned Yiddish poet Aliza Greenblatt.Guthrie received religious training for his bar mitzvah from Rabbi Meir Kahane, who would go on to form the Jewish Defense League. "Rabbi Kahane was a really nice, patient teacher," Guthrie later recalled, "but shortly after he started giving me my lessons, he started going haywire. Maybe I was responsible." Guthrie converted to Catholicism in 1977, before embracing interfaith beliefs later in his life.
Guthrie attended Woodward School in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn from first through eighth grades and later graduated from the Stockbridge School, in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, in 1965. He spent the summer of 1965 in London, eventually meeting Karl Dallas, who connected Guthrie with London's folk rock scene and became a lifelong friend of his. He briefly attended Rocky Mountain College, in Billings, Montana. He received an Honorary Doctorate from Siena College in 1981 and from Westfield State College in 2008.
As a singer, songwriter and lifelong political activist, Guthrie carries on the legacy of his father. He was awarded the Peace Abbey Courage of Conscience award on September 26, 1992.
"Alice's Restaurant"
On Thanksgiving Day 1965, while in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on vacation from his brief stint in college, Guthrie, then 18 years old, was arrested for illegally dumping on private property what he described as "a half-ton of garbage" from the home of his friends Ray and Alice Brock after he discovered the local landfill was closed for the holiday. Guthrie and his collaborator appeared in court, pled guilty to the charges, were levied a nominal fine and picked up the garbage that weekend.This littering charge would soon serve as the basis for Guthrie's most famous work, "Alice's Restaurant Massacree", a talking blues song that lasts 18 minutes and 34 seconds in its original recorded version. Guthrie has pointed out that this was also the exact length of one of the famous gaps in Richard Nixon's Watergate tapes, and that Nixon owned a copy of the record. The Alice in the song is Alice Brock, who had been a librarian at Arlo's boarding school in the town before opening her restaurant. She now owns an art studio in Provincetown, Massachusetts.
The song lampoons the Vietnam War draft. However, Guthrie has stated in multiple interviews that the song is more an "anti-stupidity" song than an anti-war song, adding that it is based on a true incident. In the song, Guthrie is called up for a draft examination and rejected as unfit for military service as a result of a criminal record consisting in its entirety of one crime, littering. Alice's restaurant is the subject of the recurrent refrain, but is not mentioned in the story (early drafts of the song explained that the restaurant was a place to hide from the police). On the DVD commentary for the 1969 movie, Guthrie stated that the events presented in the song all actually happened (others, such as the arresting officer, William Obanhein, disputed this, and Guthrie now notes that he embellished some minor details).
"Alice's Restaurant" was the song that earned Guthrie his first recording contract, after counterculture radio host Bob Fass began playing a tape recording of one of Guthrie's live performances of the song repeatedly one night in 1967. For a short period after its release in 1967, "Alice's Restaurant" was heavily played on U.S. college and counterculture radio stations. It became a symbol of the late 1960s, and for many it defined an attitude and lifestyle that were lived out across the country in the ensuing years. Its leisurely, sassy finger-picking acoustic guitar and rambling lyrics were widely memorized and played by irreverent youth. Many stations in the United States have a Thanksgiving Day tradition of playing "Alice's Restaurant".
A 1969 film, directed and co-written by Arthur Penn, was based on the true story told in the song, but with the addition of a large number of fictional scenes. This film, also called Alice's Restaurant, featured Arlo and several other figures in the song portraying themselves. The part of his father Woody Guthrie, who had died in 1967, was played by an actor, Joseph Boley; Alice, who made a cameo appearance as an extra, was also recast, with actress Pat Quinn in the title role (Brock later disowned the film's portrayal of her).
Despite its popularity, the song "Alice's Restaurant Massacree" is not always featured on the set list of any given Guthrie performance. Since putting it back into his setlist in 1984, he has performed the song every ten years, stating in a 2014 interview that the Vietnam War had ended by the 1970s and that everyone who was attending his concerts had likely already heard the song anyway, so (after a brief period in the late 1960s and early 1970s when he replaced the monologue with a fictional one involving "multicolored rainbow roaches") he decided only to do it on special occasions from that point forward.
Musical career and critical reception
The "Alice's Restaurant" song was one of a few very long songs to become popular just when albums began replacing hit singles as young people's main music listening. But in 1972 Guthrie had a highly successful single too, Steve Goodman's song "City of New Orleans", a wistful paean to long-distance passenger rail travel. Guthrie's first trip on that train was in December 2005 (when his family joined other musicians on a train trip across the country to raise money for musicians financially devastated by Hurricane Katrina and Hurricane Rita, in the South of the United States). He also had a minor hit with his song "Coming into Los Angeles", which was played at the 1969 Woodstock Festival, and success with a live version of "The Motorcycle Song" (one of the songs on the B-side of the "Alice's Restaurant Album").In the fall of 1975 during a benefit concert in Massachusetts, Arlo Guthrie performed with his band Shenandoah in public for the first time. They continued to tour and record throughout the 1970s until the early 1990s. Although the band received good reviews, it never gained the popularity that Guthrie did while playing solo. This band is not to be confused with the popular country music group Shenandoah, an entirely different group that had musical hits from 1986 to 2006. Arlo Guthrie's band Shenandoah consisted (after 1976) of David Grover, Steve Ide, Carol Ide, Terry A La Berry and Dan Velika.
Guthrie's 1976 album Amigo received a 5-star (highest rating) from Rolling Stone, and may be his best-received work. However, that album, like Guthrie's earlier Warner Bros. Records albums, is rarely heard today even though each contains strong folk and folk rock music accompanied by widely regarded musicians such as Ry Cooder.[citation needed]
A number of musicians from a variety of genres have joined Guthrie onstage, including Pete Seeger, David Bromberg, Cyril Neville, Emmylou Harris, Willie Nelson, Judy Collins, John Prine, Wesley Gray, Josh Ritter, and others.
Acting
Though Guthrie is best known for being a musician, singer, and composer, throughout the years he has also appeared as an actor in films and on television. The film Alice's Restaurant (1969) is his best known role, but he has had small parts in several films and even co-starred in a television drama, Byrds of Paradise.Guthrie has had minor roles in several movies and television series. Usually, he has appeared as himself, often performing music and/or being interviewed about the 1960s, folk music and various social causes. His television appearances have included a broad range of programs from The Muppet Show (1979) to Politically Incorrect (1998). A rare dramatic film part was in the 1992 movie Roadside Prophets. Guthrie's memorable appearance at the 1969 Woodstock Festival was documented in the Michael Wadleigh film Woodstock.
Guthrie also made a pilot for a TV variety show called "The Arlo Guthrie Show" in February 1987. The hour-long program included story telling and musical performances and was filmed in Austin, Texas. It was broadcast nationally on PBS. Special guests were Pete Seeger, Bonnie Raitt, David Bromberg and Jerry Jeff Walker.[citation needed]
Politics
In earlier years, at least from the 1960s to the 1980s, Guthrie had taken a decidedly leftist approach to American politics. In his often lengthy comments during concerts his expressed positions were consistently anti-war, anti-Nixon, pro-drugs and in favor of making nuclear power illegal. However, he apparently regarded himself as more an individualist than the major youth culture spokesperson he had been regarded as by the media, as evidenced by the lyrics in his 1979 song "Prologue": "I can remember all of your smiles during the demonstrations, ... and together we sang our victory songs though we were worlds apart." A 1969 rewrite of "Alice's Restaurant" pokes fun at then-former President Lyndon Johnson and his staff.In 1984, he was the featured celebrity in George McGovern's campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination in Guthrie's home state of Massachusetts, performing at rallies and receptions.
Guthrie identified as a registered Republican in 2008. He endorsed Texas Congressman Ron Paul for the 2008 Republican Party nomination, and said, "I love this guy. Dr. Paul is the only candidate I know of who would have signed the Constitution of the United States had he been there. I'm with him, because he seems to be the only candidate who actually believes it has as much relevance today as it did a couple of hundred years ago. I look forward to the day when we can work out the differences we have with the same revolutionary vision and enthusiasm that is our American legacy." He told The New York Times Magazine that he is a Republican because, "We had enough good Democrats. We needed a few more good Republicans. We needed a loyal opposition."
Commenting on the upcoming 2016 election, Guthrie identified himself as an independent and said he was "equally suspicious of Democrats as I am of Republicans". He declined to endorse a candidate, noting that he personally liked Bernie Sanders despite disagreeing with Sanders's platform, and he admired Donald Trump's ability to not rely on campaign donations but did not believe Trump has the best interests of the country in mind.
About once a month, Guthrie posts short writings to the Announcements area of www.arlo.net, often expounding libertarian themes.
Legacy
Like his father, Woody Guthrie, Guthrie often sings songs of protest against social injustice. He collaborated with poet Adrian Mitchell to tell the story of Chilean folk singer and activist Víctor Jara in song. He regularly performed with folk musician Pete Seeger, one of his father's longtime partners. Ramblin' Jack Elliott, who had lived for two years in the Guthries' home before Arlo left for boarding school, had absorbed Woody's style perhaps better than anyone; Arlo has been said to have credited Elliott for passing it along to him.[citation needed]In 1991, Guthrie bought the church that had served as Alice and Ray Brock's former home in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, and converted it to the Guthrie Center, an interfaith meeting place that serves people of all religions. The center provides weekly free lunches in the community and support for families living with HIV/AIDS as well as other life-threatening illnesses. It also hosts a summertime concert series and Guthrie does six or seven fund raising shows there every year. There are several annual events such as the Walk-A-Thon to Cure Huntington's Disease and a "Thanksgiving Dinner That Can't Be Beat" for families, friends, doctors and scientists who live and work with Huntington's disease.
Personal life
Guthrie resides in the town of Washington, Massachusetts, where he and Jackie Hyde, his wife of 43 years, were long time residents. Jackie died on October 14, 2012, after a brief battle with liver cancer. He also has a home in Sebastian, Florida.Guthrie's son Abe Guthrie and his daughters Annie, Sarah Lee Guthrie, and Cathy Guthrie have also become musicians. Annie Guthrie writes songs and performs, and also takes care of family touring details. Sarah Lee performs and records with her husband Johnny Irion. Cathy plays ukulele in Folk Uke, a group she formed with Amy Nelson, the daughter of Willie Nelson. Abe Guthrie was formerly in a folk-rock band called Xavier, and now tours with his father. Abe Guthrie's son, Krishna, is a drummer and toured with Arlo Guthrie on his European tour in 2006[citation needed] and played guitar for the 2009–2010 Tour. Krishna plays drums in Modest Me and aspires to be the lead of his own band some day. Arlo Guthrie is a grandfather of Abe's son Krishna and daughter Serena, Annie's son Shiva Das (Mo) and daughter Jacklyn, Sarah Lee's daughters Olivia Nora and Sophia Irion and Cathy's daughter Marjorie Maybelle Midwood.
Works
Discography
- Alice's Restaurant (1967)
- Arlo (1968)
- Running Down the Road (1969)
- Alice's Restaurant Soundtrack (1969)
- Washington County (1970)
- Hobo's Lullaby (1972)
- Last of the Brooklyn Cowboys (1973)
- Arlo Guthrie (1974)
- Together in Concert (1975), with Pete Seeger (2 record set), Warner/Reprise
- Amigo (1976)
- The Best of Arlo Guthrie (1977)
- One Night (1978)
- Outlasting the Blues (1979)
- Power of Love (1981)
- Precious Friend (1982), with Pete Seeger (2 record set), Warner/Reprise
- Someday (1986)
- All Over the World (1991)
- Son of the Wind (1992)
- 2 Songs (1992)
- More Together Again (1993), with Pete Seeger (2 record set)
- Alice's Restaurant: The Massacree Revisited (1996)
- Mystic Journey (1996)
- This Land Is Your Land: An All American Children's Folk Classic (1997)
- Till We Outnumber 'Em (2000) – various artists, live program hosted by Arlo
- Banjoman: a tribute to Derroll Adams (2002)
- Live In Sydney (2005)
- In Times Like These (2007)
- 32¢ Postage Due (2008)
- Tales Of '69 (2009)
Select filmography
- Alice's Restaurant (1969)
- Renaldo and Clara (1978)
- Baby's Storytime (1989)
- Roadside Prophets (1992)
Notable television guest appearances
- Beat Club (episode # 1.52) February 28, 1970
- Byrds of Paradise (1994)
- Relativity December 29, 1996
- Renegade in episode: "Top Ten with a Bullet" (episode # 5.14) January 24, 1997
- Rich Man, Poor Man: Book 2 2 episodes, 1976
- The fourth season of The Muppet Show.
- The fiftieth anniversary of Alice's Restaurant. PBS Special on Thanksgiving Day, November 26, 2015
Film and television composer
- Alice's Restaurant (1969) (song "The Alice's Restaurant Massacree")
- Woodstock (1970) (song "Coming into Los Angeles" – the song heard on the officially released soundtrack recording was not played at the Woodstock festival. Rather, it is a recording of a previous live presentation.)
- Clay Pigeon (1971) also known as Trip to Kill (UK)
- Baby's Storytime (1989)
Producer and writer
- Isn't This a Time! A Tribute Concert for Harold Leventhal (2004)
- Mooses Come Walking (2004) (children's book)
Appearances as himself
- Hylands hörna (episode # 4.4) January 31, 1970
- Woodstock (1969) (also known as Woodstock 25th Anniversary Edition and as Woodstock, 3 Days of Peace & Music)
- The Dick Cavett Show September 8, 1970
- Arthur Penn 1922–: Themes and Variants (1970) (TV)
- The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson, August 17, 1972
- The Muppet Show (episode # 4.8) June 19, 1979
- The Weavers: Wasn't That a Time (1982)
- Woody Guthrie: Hard Travelin' (1984)
- Farm Aid '87 (1987) (TV)
- A Vision Shared: A Tribute to Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly (1988)
- Woodstock: The Lost Performances (1990)
- Woodstock Diary (1994) (TV)
- The Kennedy Center Honors: A Celebration of the Performing Arts (1994) (TV)
- The History of Rock 'N' Roll, Vol. 6 (1995) (TV) (also known as My Generation)
- This Land Is Your Land: The Animated Kids' Songs of Woody Guthrie (1997)
- Healthy Kids (1998) (TV series)
- The Ballad of Ramblin' Jack (2000)
- Hollywood Rocks the Movies: The Early Years (1955–1970) (2000) (TV)
- Last Party 2000 (2001) (also known as The Party's Over)
- Pops Goes the Fourth! (July 4, 2001)
- NPR's Talk of the Nation radio broadcast (November 14, 2001)
- "St. James Infirmary" and "City of New Orleans"
- Singing in the Shadow: The Children of Rock Royalty (2003)
- Get Up, Stand Up (2003) (TV series)
- From Wharf Rats to the Lords of the Docks (2004)
- Isn't This a Time! A Tribute Concert for Harold Leventhal (2004)
- Sacco and Vanzetti (2006)
- 1968 with Tom Brokaw (2007)
- Pete Seeger: The Power of Song (2008) (American Masters PBS TV special)
- The 84th Annual Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (2010) (TV special)
Guthrie tuning up before a performance in Kodiak, Alaska in 2013.
Risultati di ricerca
Arlo Guthrie - Coming Into Los Angeles(Woodstock 1969 Concert ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuxXzI2VB1c
16 mar 2012 - Caricato da VinylOldiesJukebox
This live "mono mix" version of "Coming Into Los Angeles" by Arlo Guthrie at Woodstock 1969 Concert was ...
Coming in from London from over the pond
Flyin' in a big airliner
Chickens flyin' everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer?
Flyin' in a big airliner
Chickens flyin' everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer?
Comin' into Los Angeles
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
There's a guy with a ticket to Mexico
No, he couldn't look much stranger
Walkin' in the hall with his things and all
Smilin, said he was the lone ranger
No, he couldn't look much stranger
Walkin' in the hall with his things and all
Smilin, said he was the lone ranger
Comin' into Los Angeles
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Hip woman walkin' on the movin' floor
Trippin' on the escalator
There's a man in the line and she's blowin' his mind
Thinkin' that he's already made her
Trippin' on the escalator
There's a man in the line and she's blowin' his mind
Thinkin' that he's already made her
Comin' into Los Angeles
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Comin' in from London from over the poll
Flyin' in a big airliner
Chickens flyin' everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer?
Flyin' in a big airliner
Chickens flyin' everywhere around the plane
Could we ever feel much finer?
Comin' into Los Angeles
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Bringin' in a couple of keys
Don't touch my bags if you please mister customs man
Yeah, alright
Written
by Arlo Guthrie • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal
Music Publishing Group, Peermusic Publishing, The Bicycle Music Company
Risultati di ricerca
ARLO GUTHRIE EAST TEXAS RED [tape CBS 460905-4 @ 1988 ...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcRQxApRhjs
east texas red arlo guthrie - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F2lJ2MQiAWs
10 lug 2013 - Caricato da paddy brennan
Arlo Guthrie/When A Soldier Makes It Home - Duration: 7:39. Arlo Guthrie 387,038 views · 7:39. ♫ ARLO ...
"East Texas Red"
Down in the scrub oak timber of the Southeast Texas Gulf
There used to ride a brakeman and a brakeman double tough
He worked the town of Kilgore and Longview nine miles down
Us trav'lers called him East Texas Red the meanest bull around.
I rode by night and by broad daylight in wind and snow and sun
I always seen little East Texas Red sporting his smooth running gun
The tale got switched down the stems and main and everybody said
The meanest man on the shiny rails was little East Texas Red.
It was early in the morning and along towards nine or ten
A couple of boys on the hunt of a job stood in the blizzardy wind
Hungry and cold they knocked on the doors of the working folks around
For a piece of meat and a spud or two to boil a stew around.
Red he come down the cinder dump and he flagged the number two
He kicked their bucket over a bush and he dumped out all their stew
A traveler said, Mister East Texas Red you better get everything fixed
'Cause you're gonna ride your little train just one year from today.
Red he laughed as he clumb the bank and swung aside of a wheeler
The boys caught a tanker to Seminole and west to Amarillo
They struck them a job of oil field work and followed a pipe line down
It took them lots of places till the year had rolled around.
On one cold and wintery day they hooked them a Gulf bound train
They shivered and shook with dough in their clothes to see Kilgore again
Over hills of sand and hard froze roads where the cotton wagons roll
On past the town of Kilgore and on to old Longview.
With their warm suits of clothes and overcoats they walk into a store
They pay the man for some meat and stuff to fix a stew once more
The ties they walk back past the yards till they come to the same old spot
Where East Texas Red just a year ago had dumped their last stew pot.
The smoke of their fire went higher and higher a man come down the line
He ducked his head in the blizzardy wind and waved old number nine
He walked off down the cinder dump till he come to the same old spot
And there was the same three men again around that same little pot.
Red went to his knees and he hollered,
Please don't pull that trigger on me.
I did not get my business fixed but he did not get his say
A gun wheeled out of an overcoat and it played the old one two
And Red was dead when the other two men set down to eat their stew.
There used to ride a brakeman and a brakeman double tough
He worked the town of Kilgore and Longview nine miles down
Us trav'lers called him East Texas Red the meanest bull around.
I rode by night and by broad daylight in wind and snow and sun
I always seen little East Texas Red sporting his smooth running gun
The tale got switched down the stems and main and everybody said
The meanest man on the shiny rails was little East Texas Red.
It was early in the morning and along towards nine or ten
A couple of boys on the hunt of a job stood in the blizzardy wind
Hungry and cold they knocked on the doors of the working folks around
For a piece of meat and a spud or two to boil a stew around.
Red he come down the cinder dump and he flagged the number two
He kicked their bucket over a bush and he dumped out all their stew
A traveler said, Mister East Texas Red you better get everything fixed
'Cause you're gonna ride your little train just one year from today.
Red he laughed as he clumb the bank and swung aside of a wheeler
The boys caught a tanker to Seminole and west to Amarillo
They struck them a job of oil field work and followed a pipe line down
It took them lots of places till the year had rolled around.
On one cold and wintery day they hooked them a Gulf bound train
They shivered and shook with dough in their clothes to see Kilgore again
Over hills of sand and hard froze roads where the cotton wagons roll
On past the town of Kilgore and on to old Longview.
With their warm suits of clothes and overcoats they walk into a store
They pay the man for some meat and stuff to fix a stew once more
The ties they walk back past the yards till they come to the same old spot
Where East Texas Red just a year ago had dumped their last stew pot.
The smoke of their fire went higher and higher a man come down the line
He ducked his head in the blizzardy wind and waved old number nine
He walked off down the cinder dump till he come to the same old spot
And there was the same three men again around that same little pot.
Red went to his knees and he hollered,
Please don't pull that trigger on me.
I did not get my business fixed but he did not get his say
A gun wheeled out of an overcoat and it played the old one two
And Red was dead when the other two men set down to eat their stew.
Arlo with Bob Dylan, Friends of Chile 1974Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie - On A Monday - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3PM7EbyRng
26 gen 2017 - Caricato da My Pet Paradox
"On A Monday" by Pete Seeger & Arlo Guthrie from the album Pete Seeger & Arlo Guthrie Together In ...
On a Monday
I was arrested
And on a Tuesday,
I got locked up in jail
And on a Wednesday
My trial was attested
And on a Thursday
Nobody would go my bail
Yes I'm gone
Aaaalmost most gone
Yes I'm gone
I'm almost gone
Yes I'm gone,
I'm almost gone
And I ain't going to be seein' them pretty women no more
Take these stripes
These stripes from off my shoulder
Take these chains
These chains from off-a my leg
Well these stripes,
You know that they don't bother me
But these chains
These chains are killin' me dead
Yes I'm gone
Aaaalmost most gone
Yes I'm gone
I'm almost gone
Yes I'm gone,
I'm almost gone
And I ain't going to be seein' them pretty women no more
Now on a Friday
My baby went out walking
And on a Saturday
You know she locked up the door
And on a Sunday
She must have done some talkin'
Cause on a Monday
She had sold all o my clothes.
Yes I'm gone
Almost most gone
Yes I'm gone
I'm almost gone
Yes I'm gone,
I'm aaalmost gone
And I ain't going to be seein' them pretty women no more
I was arrested
And on a Tuesday,
I got locked up in jail
And on a Wednesday
My trial was attested
And on a Thursday
Nobody would go my bail
Yes I'm gone
Aaaalmost most gone
Yes I'm gone
I'm almost gone
Yes I'm gone,
I'm almost gone
And I ain't going to be seein' them pretty women no more
Take these stripes
These stripes from off my shoulder
Take these chains
These chains from off-a my leg
Well these stripes,
You know that they don't bother me
But these chains
These chains are killin' me dead
Yes I'm gone
Aaaalmost most gone
Yes I'm gone
I'm almost gone
Yes I'm gone,
I'm almost gone
And I ain't going to be seein' them pretty women no more
Now on a Friday
My baby went out walking
And on a Saturday
You know she locked up the door
And on a Sunday
She must have done some talkin'
Cause on a Monday
She had sold all o my clothes.
Yes I'm gone
Almost most gone
Yes I'm gone
I'm almost gone
Yes I'm gone,
I'm aaalmost gone
And I ain't going to be seein' them pretty women no more
Alice's Restaurant - Original 1967 Recording - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m57gzA2JCcM
18 mar 2012 - Caricato da Tenafly Viper
From Arlo Guthrie's same-titled album, released by Reprise. Arlo Guthrie/Alice's Restaurant - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_7C0QGkiVo
05 ott 2006 - Caricato da Arlo Guthrie
Arlo performing Alice's Restaurant at the Guthrie Center. July 2, 2005. Happy Thanksgiving!!!
This song is called Alice's Restaurant, and it's about Alice, and the
restaurant, but Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant,
that's just the name of the song, and that's why I called the song Alice's
Restaurant.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on
Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the
restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the
church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and
Fasha the dog. And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of
room downstairs where the pews used to be in. Havin' all that room,
seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't
have to take out their garbage for a long time.
We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd be
a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So
we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW
microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed
on toward the city dump.
Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the
dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving." And we had never heard of a dump
closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off
into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.
We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the
side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the
cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile
is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we
decided to throw our's down.
That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgiving
dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the
next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie. He said, "Kid,
we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton of
garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it." And
I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope
under that garbage."
After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone we
finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go down
and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the
police officer's station. So we got in the red VW microbus with the
shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the
police officer's station.
Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at
the police station, and the first was he could have given us a medal for
being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and
we didn't expect it, and the other thing was he could have bawled us out
and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again,
which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station
there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was
both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I
can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid.
Get in the back of the patrol car."
And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the
quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of
Stockbridge, Massachusets, where this happened here, they got three stop
signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the
Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars,
being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to
get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of
cop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer's station.
They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and
they took twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each
one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach,
the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that's not to
mention the aerial photography.
After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put
us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your
wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my
wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you
want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I
said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?"
Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the
toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took
out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars roll out the - roll the
toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie
was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice
(remember Alice? It's a song about Alice), Alice came by and with a few
nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back
to the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat,
and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.
We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten
colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back
of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up,
and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy
pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he
sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the
twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows
and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog.
And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry,
'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American
blind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the
judge wasn't going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy
pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each
one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And
we was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but thats not
what I came to tell you about.
Came to talk about the draft.
They got a building down New York City, it's called Whitehall Street,
where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected,
neglected and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one
day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so
I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. `Cause I wanted to
look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted
to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York,
and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all
kinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gave
me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the phsychiatrist, room 604."
And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I
wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and
guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill,
KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," and
he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down
yelling, "KILL, KILL." And the sargent came over, pinned a medal on me,
sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."
Didn't feel too good about it.
Proceeded on down the hall gettin more injections, inspections,
detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to me
at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four
hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty
ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was
inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no
part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the
last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there,
and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only got
one question. Have you ever been arrested?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacre,
with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all
the phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you ever
go to court?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-ten
colour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on
the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want
you to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W .... NOW kid!!"
And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's
where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army after
committing your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly
looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father
rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And
they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the
bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest
father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly
'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me
and said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay
$50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?"
And I said, "Littering." And they all moved away from me on the bench
there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I
said, "And creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand,
and we had a great time on the bench, talkin about crime, mother stabbing,
father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the
bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of
things, until the Sargeant came over, had some paper in his hand, held it
up and said.
"Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-
know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-
you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting-
officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked for
forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had
fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there,
and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote it
down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the
pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the
other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on
the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the
following words:
("KID, HAVE YOU REHABILITATED YOURSELF?")
I went over to the sargent, said, "Sargeant, you got a lot a damn gall to
ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm
sittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin here on the Group W bench
'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough join the army, burn women,
kids, houses and villages after bein' a litterbug." He looked at me and
said, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprints
off to Washington."
And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a
study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'm
singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar
situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a
situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into
the shrink wherever you are ,just walk in say "Shrink, You can get
anything you want, at Alice's restaurant.". And walk out. You know, if
one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and
they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony,
they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them.
And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in
singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's an
organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I said
fifty people a day walking in singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and
walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.
And that's what it is , the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement, and
all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the
guitar.
With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and
sing it when it does. Here it comes.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.
I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it
for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired.
So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part
harmony and feeling.
We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.
All right now.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Excepting Alice
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Da da da da da da da dum
At Alice's Restaurant
restaurant, but Alice's Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant,
that's just the name of the song, and that's why I called the song Alice's
Restaurant.
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want at Alice's Restaurant
Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on - two years ago on
Thanksgiving, when my friend and I went up to visit Alice at the
restaurant, but Alice doesn't live in the restaurant, she lives in the
church nearby the restaurant, in the bell-tower, with her husband Ray and
Fasha the dog. And livin' in the bell tower like that, they got a lot of
room downstairs where the pews used to be in. Havin' all that room,
seein' as how they took out all the pews, they decided that they didn't
have to take out their garbage for a long time.
We got up there, we found all the garbage in there, and we decided it'd be
a friendly gesture for us to take the garbage down to the city dump. So
we took the half a ton of garbage, put it in the back of a red VW
microbus, took shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed
on toward the city dump.
Well we got there and there was a big sign and a chain across across the
dump saying, "Closed on Thanksgiving." And we had never heard of a dump
closed on Thanksgiving before, and with tears in our eyes we drove off
into the sunset looking for another place to put the garbage.
We didn't find one. Until we came to a side road, and off the side of the
side road there was another fifteen foot cliff and at the bottom of the
cliff there was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile
is better than two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we
decided to throw our's down.
That's what we did, and drove back to the church, had a thanksgiving
dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep and didn't get up until the
next morning, when we got a phone call from officer Obie. He said, "Kid,
we found your name on an envelope at the bottom of a half a ton of
garbage, and just wanted to know if you had any information about it." And
I said, "Yes, sir, Officer Obie, I cannot tell a lie, I put that envelope
under that garbage."
After speaking to Obie for about fourty-five minutes on the telephone we
finally arrived at the truth of the matter and said that we had to go down
and pick up the garbage, and also had to go down and speak to him at the
police officer's station. So we got in the red VW microbus with the
shovels and rakes and implements of destruction and headed on toward the
police officer's station.
Now friends, there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at
the police station, and the first was he could have given us a medal for
being so brave and honest on the telephone, which wasn't very likely, and
we didn't expect it, and the other thing was he could have bawled us out
and told us never to be see driving garbage around the vicinity again,
which is what we expected, but when we got to the police officer's station
there was a third possibility that we hadn't even counted upon, and we was
both immediately arrested. Handcuffed. And I said "Obie, I don't think I
can pick up the garbage with these handcuffs on." He said, "Shut up, kid.
Get in the back of the patrol car."
And that's what we did, sat in the back of the patrol car and drove to the
quote Scene of the Crime unquote. I want tell you about the town of
Stockbridge, Massachusets, where this happened here, they got three stop
signs, two police officers, and one police car, but when we got to the
Scene of the Crime there was five police officers and three police cars,
being the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to
get in the newspaper story about it. And they was using up all kinds of
cop equipment that they had hanging around the police officer's station.
They was taking plaster tire tracks, foot prints, dog smelling prints, and
they took twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each
one was to be used as evidence against us. Took pictures of the approach,
the getaway, the northwest corner the southwest corner and that's not to
mention the aerial photography.
After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was going to put
us in the cell. Said, "Kid, I'm going to put you in the cell, I want your
wallet and your belt." And I said, "Obie, I can understand you wanting my
wallet so I don't have any money to spend in the cell, but what do you
want my belt for?" And he said, "Kid, we don't want any hangings." I
said, "Obie, did you think I was going to hang myself for littering?"
Obie said he was making sure, and friends Obie was, cause he took out the
toilet seat so I couldn't hit myself over the head and drown, and he took
out the toilet paper so I couldn't bend the bars roll out the - roll the
toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll and have an escape. Obie
was making sure, and it was about four or five hours later that Alice
(remember Alice? It's a song about Alice), Alice came by and with a few
nasty words to Obie on the side, bailed us out of jail, and we went back
to the church, had a another thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat,
and didn't get up until the next morning, when we all had to go to court.
We walked in, sat down, Obie came in with the twenty seven eight-by-ten
colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back
of each one, sat down. Man came in said, "All rise." We all stood up,
and Obie stood up with the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy
pictures, and the judge walked in sat down with a seeing eye dog, and he
sat down, we sat down. Obie looked at the seeing eye dog, and then at the
twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles and arrows
and a paragraph on the back of each one, and looked at the seeing eye dog.
And then at twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy pictures with circles
and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one and began to cry,
'cause Obie came to the realization that it was a typical case of American
blind justice, and there wasn't nothing he could do about it, and the
judge wasn't going to look at the twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy
pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each
one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And
we was fined $50 and had to pick up the garbage in the snow, but thats not
what I came to tell you about.
Came to talk about the draft.
They got a building down New York City, it's called Whitehall Street,
where you walk in, you get injected, inspected, detected, infected,
neglected and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one
day, and I walked in, I sat down, got good and drunk the night before, so
I looked and felt my best when I went in that morning. `Cause I wanted to
look like the all-American kid from New York City, man I wanted, I wanted
to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all American kid from New York,
and I walked in, sat down, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all
kinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I waked in and sat down and they gave
me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the phsychiatrist, room 604."
And I went up there, I said, "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I
wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and
guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill,
KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," and
he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down
yelling, "KILL, KILL." And the sargent came over, pinned a medal on me,
sent me down the hall, said, "You're our boy."
Didn't feel too good about it.
Proceeded on down the hall gettin more injections, inspections,
detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to me
at the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four
hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty
ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was
inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no
part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the
last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there,
and I walked up and said, "What do you want?" He said, "Kid, we only got
one question. Have you ever been arrested?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Alice's Restaurant Massacre,
with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and all
the phenome... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, did you ever
go to court?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty seven eight-by-ten
colour glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and the paragraph on
the back of each one, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want
you to go and sit down on that bench that says Group W .... NOW kid!!"
And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's
where they put you if you may not be moral enough to join the army after
committing your special crime, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly
looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father
rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And
they was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the
bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest
father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly
'n' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me
and said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing, I had to pay
$50 and pick up the garbage." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?"
And I said, "Littering." And they all moved away from me on the bench
there, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I
said, "And creating a nuisance." And they all came back, shook my hand,
and we had a great time on the bench, talkin about crime, mother stabbing,
father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the
bench. And everything was fine, we was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of
things, until the Sargeant came over, had some paper in his hand, held it
up and said.
"Kids, this-piece-of-paper's-got-47-words-37-sentences-58-words-we-wanna-
know-details-of-the-crime-time-of-the-crime-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-
you-gotta-say-pertaining-to-and-about-the-crime-I-want-to-know-arresting-
officer's-name-and-any-other-kind-of-thing-you-gotta-say", and talked for
forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had
fun filling out the forms and playing with the pencils on the bench there,
and I filled out the massacre with the four part harmony, and wrote it
down there, just like it was, and everything was fine and I put down the
pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper, and there, there on the
other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on
the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the
following words:
("KID, HAVE YOU REHABILITATED YOURSELF?")
I went over to the sargent, said, "Sargeant, you got a lot a damn gall to
ask me if I've rehabilitated myself, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm
sittin' here on the bench, I mean I'm sittin here on the Group W bench
'cause you want to know if I'm moral enough join the army, burn women,
kids, houses and villages after bein' a litterbug." He looked at me and
said, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprints
off to Washington."
And friends, somewhere in Washington enshrined in some little folder, is a
study in black and white of my fingerprints. And the only reason I'm
singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar
situation, or you may be in a similar situation, and if your in a
situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into
the shrink wherever you are ,just walk in say "Shrink, You can get
anything you want, at Alice's restaurant.". And walk out. You know, if
one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and
they won't take him. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony,
they may think they're both faggots and they won't take either of them.
And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in
singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and walking out. They may think it's an
organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I said
fifty people a day walking in singin a bar of Alice's Restaurant and
walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.
And that's what it is , the Alice's Restaurant Anti-Massacre Movement, and
all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the
guitar.
With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and
sing it when it does. Here it comes.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
That was horrible. If you want to end war and stuff you got to sing loud.
I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it
for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired.
So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part
harmony and feeling.
We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.
All right now.
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Excepting Alice
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Walk right in it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
You can get anything you want, at Alice's Restaurant
Da da da da da da da dum
At Alice's Restaurant
Versione italiana di Riccardo Venturi
25 giugno 2005
(Probabilmente la prima versione di Alice's Restaurant in italiano mai eseguita).
25 giugno 2005
(Probabilmente la prima versione di Alice's Restaurant in italiano mai eseguita).
IL RISTORANTE DI ALICE
Questa canzone si chiama Il Ristorante di Alice, è su Alice, e sul ristorante, ma “Alice’s Restaurant” non è il nome del ristorante, è solo il nome della canzone ed è per questo che ho chiamato la canzone Il Ristorante di Alice.
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice,
vacci a piedi e entraci, è giusto là dietro,
appena un chilometro dalla ferrovia,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice
Ora, tutto è nato due feste del Ringraziamento fa, è stato due anni fa nel giorno del Ringraziamento, quando io ed il mio amico siamo andati a fare una visitina a Alice al ristorante, ma Alice non vive nel ristorante, vive nella chiesa vicina al ristorante, nel campanile, con suo marito Ray e il cane Fasha. E siccome vivono in quella maniera, nel campanile, hanno un sacco di spazio giù al piano di sotto dove prima ci stavano i banchi da chiesa. E siccome hanno tutto quello spazio e vedendo come hanno portato via tutti i banchi da chiesa, hanno deciso che non dovevano portare fuori la loro spazzatura per un bel po’ di tempo.
Siamo saliti là sopra, abbiamo trovato tutta la spazzatura che c’era dentro e abbiamo deciso che sarebbe stato un gesto da amici portare la spazzatura alla discarica cittadina. Così abbiamo preso una mezza tonnellata di spazzatura, l’abbiamo infilata dietro un furgone Volkswagen rosso, abbiamo preso pale, rastrelli e arnesi di distruzione e abbiamo fatto rotta verso la discarica comunale.
Beh, siamo arrivati là e c’era un grosso segnale e una catena tutta attorno alla discarica, che diceva “Chiuso il giorno del Ringraziamento”. Non avevamo mai sentito prima di una discarica chiusa il giorno del Ringraziamento, e con le lacrime agli occhi siamo andati via nel tramonto, cercando un altro posto dove buttare la spazzatura.
Non ne abbiamo trovato nessuno, finché non siamo arrivati in una stradina laterale, e sul lato della stradina laterale c’era un altro burrone di una decina di metri, e in fondo al burrone c’era un altro mucchio di spazzatura. Abbiamo deciso che un grosso mucchio è meglio di due piccoli mucchi, e piuttosto di portare su quell’altro abbiamo deciso di buttare giù il nostro.
Questo è quel che abbiamo fatto, siamo tornati alla chiesa, abbiamo fatto un pranzo di Ringraziamento assolutamente imbattibile, siamo andati a dormire e non ci siamo risvegliati che la mattina dopo, quando abbiamo ricevuto una telefonata dall’agente Obie. Ha detto, “Ragazzo, abbiamo trovato il tuo nome su una busta in fondo a mezza tonnellata di spazzatura, e volevamo giusto sapere se ne sai qualcosa.” Io gli ho risposto: “Sì, signor agente Obie, non posso mentire, ho messo io la busta sotto quella spazzatura.”
Dopo aver parlato con Obie per circa tre quarti d’ora al telefono, siamo finalmente arrivati al nocciolo della questione, e lui ha detto che dovevamo scendere laggiù e raccogliere la spazzatura, e che dovevamo anche andare a parlare con lui al commissariato. E così siamo montati sul furgone Volkswagen con le pale, i rastrelli e gli arnesi di distruzione e abbiamo fatto rotta verso il commissariato di polizia.
Ora, amici, c’erano solo due cose che Obie avrebbe potuto fare al commissariato, la prima era che avrebbe potuto darci una medaglia per essere stati tanto onesti e coraggiosi al telefono, cosa che non era molto probabile e che non ci aspettavamo, e l’altra era che avrebbe potuto sgridarci e dirci non farci più vedere a portare ancora in giro spazzatura per tutto il circondario, che era quel che ci aspettavamo; ma quando andammo al commissario c’era un’altra possibilità che non avevamo nemmeno preso in considerazione, e insomma fummo tutti e due arrestati. Ammanettati. E io dissi: “Obie, non penso di poter raccattare la spazzatura con queste manette addosso.” E lui: “Zitto, ragazzo. Siediti dietro sulla macchina di pattuglia.”
Ed è quel che facemmo, ci mettemmo a sedere dietro sulla macchina di pattuglia e ci recammo sulla (inizio citazione) Scena del delitto (fine citazione). Voglio raccontarvi della città di Stockbridge, Massachusetts, dove tutto questo accadde, avevano tre segnali di stop, due agenti e una macchina della polizia, ma quando ci recammo sulla Scena del Delitto c’erano cinque agenti e tre macchine della polizia, dato che si trattava del peggior crimine degli ultimi cinquant’anni, e tutti volevano andare sul giornale. E stavano pure usando ogni sorta di roba da sbirri che era stata non so quanto a ciondolare inutilizzata al commissariato.
Rilevavano le tracce di pneumatici col gesso, le impronte digitali, le tracce coi cani segugi, e presero pure ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con cerchetti e freccette, e una dicitura sul retro di ciascuna che spiegava come ognuna di esse avrebbe potuto essere utilizzata come prova contro di noi. Presero fotografie all’arrivo, alla partenza, del settore nord-ovest, del settore sud-ovest, per non parlare della fotografia aerea.
Dopo tutto quel patire, tornammo in prigione.Obie disse che che ci avrebbe messo in cella. Disse: “Ragazzo, ti metto in cella, dammi il portafoglio e la cintura.” E io dissi: “Obie, posso anche capire che tu voglia il mio portafoglio, così non avrò soldi da spendere in cella, ma per che cazzo la vuoi, la mia cintura?” E lui disse: “Ragazzo, non vogliamo che tu ti impicchi.” Io dissi: “Obie, pensi che io mi impicchi per sparpagliamento di spazzatura?” Obie disse che voleva essere sicuro, e, amici, lo voleva sul serio perché tirò via pure la ciambella del cesso in modo che io non potessi sbattermela in testa e affogarci, e portò via anche la carta igienica perché non potessi piegare le sbarre, srotolare fuori, insomma srotolare la carta igienica fuori dalla finestra, far scivolare fuori il rotolo e evadere. Obie voleva essere sicuro, e fu quattro o cinque ore più tardi che Alice (vi ricordate di Alice? E’ una canzone su Alice), insomma Alice arrivò e con qualche paroletta un po’ incazzata a Obie ci tirò fuori di galera su cauzione, e tornammo alla chiesa facendoci un altro pranzo di Ringraziamento assolutamente imbattibile, e non ci alzammo fino alla mattina dopo, quando dovevamo tutti quanti andare in tribunale.
Entrammo, ci mettemmo a sedere, Obie entrò con le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con i cerchietti e le freccette, ognuna con una dicitura sul retro, e si mise a sedere. Un tizio entrò e disse: “Tutti in piedi.” Tutti ci alzammo in piedi, e Obie si alzò con le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata, e il giudice entrò, si mise a sedere con una guardia, si mise a sedere e noi ci mettemmo a sedere. Obie guardò il guardiano. Poi guardò le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con cerchietti e freccette ognuna con una dicitura sul retro, e scoppiò a piangere perché Obie si rese conto che si trattava di un tipico caso di mala giustizia americana, e che non ci poteva fare nulla, e che il giudice non avrebbe guardato le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con i cerchietti e le freccette, ognuna con una dicitura sul retro che spiegava che ciascuna avrebbe potuto essere utilizzata come prova contro di noi. Insomma ci fu appioppata una multa di 50 dollari, e dovemmo ritirare su la spazzatura sotto la neve, ma non è questo che ero venuto a raccontarvi.
Ero venuto a parlare della visita di leva.
C’era un palazzo giù a New York, si chiama Whitehall Street, dove entri, dove qualcosa ti viene iniettato e poi vieni ispezionato rilevato infettato scartato e selezionato abile-arruolato. Ci andai un giorno per fare la mia visita attitudinale, ed entrai, mi misi a sedere, la sera prima mi ero divertito un mondo e mi ero inciuccato e così mi sentivo al meglio, ed avevo un aspetto al meglio, quando entrai là quella mattina. Perché volevo somigliare a un tipico ragazzo americano di New York, gente, accidenti se lo volevo, volevo sentirmi come un tipico –insomma volevo essere un tipico ragazzo americano di New York, e entrai, mi misi a sedere e fui rivoltato in tutti i modi e tutte le salse, e ogni tipo di cose brutte, meschine e orribili del genere. Entrai, mi misi a sedere, e mi dettero un pezzo di carta che diceva: “Ragazzo, vai dallo psichiatra, stanza 604.”
Andai su, e dissi: “Strizzacervelli, voglio uccidere. Cioè, insomma, voglio uccidere. Voglio vedere, voglio vedere sangue, sangue rappreso, visceri e vene da prendere a morsi. Voglio mangiare cadaveri carbonizzati. Voglio dire uccidere, Uccidere, UCCIDERE, UCCIDERE.” E cominciai a saltellare su e giù berciando “UCCIDERE! UCCIDERE!”, e lui cominciò a saltellare su e giù insieme a me berciando “UCCIDERE! UCCIDERE!”. Poi arrivò il sergente, mi appuntò una medaglia, mi rimandò giù nella hall e disse: “Sei quello che fa per noi, ragazzo.”
La cosa non mi fece sentire troppo bene.
Scesi giù nella hall beccandomi ancora più iniezioni ispezioni rilevazioni scartazioni e ogni sorta di cose che mi stavano facendo in quel posto di merda là, e ci restai due ore, tre ore, quattro ore, ci rimasi a lungo beccandomi ogni sorta di cose brutte stronze bastarde e insomma ci stavo proprio passando un brutto quarto d’ora là, e loro stavano ispezionando e iniezionando ogni mia parte, non lasciavano intatta neanche una parte. Scesi ancora, e quando alla fine arrivai a vedere l’ultima persona, entrai, entrai e mi misi a sedere dopo aver dovuto passare tutta quella roba, entrai e dissi: “Cosa vuoi?”. Lui disse, “Ragazzo, abbiamo solo una domanda da farti. Sei mai stato arrestato?”
E io provvidi a raccontargli la storia della Strage al Ristorante di Alice, con tutta l’orchestrazione e partitura armonica in cinque parti e cose del genere e tutto il fenome… -e lui mi stoppò là e mi disse: “Ragazzo, sei mai stato processato?”
E io provvidi a raccontargli la storia delle ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori con i cerchietti e le freccette, ognuna con una dicitura sul retro, e lui mi stoppò là e mi disse: “Ragazzo, voglio che tu ti metta a sedere su quella panca che dice Gruppo W…ORA, ragazzo!!”
E insomma io andai a quella panca, a quella panca là, dove c’erano quelli del Gruppo W, dove ti mettono se non hai i requisiti morali necessari per entrare nell’esercito dopo aver commesso un certo crimine, e c’era ogni sorta di gente brutta stronza e bastarda su quella panca. Stupratori di mamme. Accoltellatori di papà. Stupratori di papà! Stupratori di papà che se ne stavano là a sedere su quella panca, accanto a me! Ed erano dei tipi brutti stronzi bastardi orribili e criminali, quelli che stavano là a sedere accanto a me. E il più brutto, più stronzo e più bastardo, lo stupratore di papà più merdoso di tutti, mi si stava avvicinando e era brutto stronzo bastardo orribile e ogni sorta di cose di quel genere, e era seduto accanto a me e diceva: “Ragazzo, cazzo hai fatto?” Io dissi: “Non ho fatto nulla, ho dovuto pagare 50 dollari e raccattare la spazzatura.” Lui disse: “Per cosa ti hanno arrestato, ragazzo?” E io dissi: “Per sparpagliamento di spazzatura:” E tutti allora si scostarono da me sulla panca, e mi fecero degli sguardi torvi e ogni sorta di cose brutte e stronze finché non dissi: “E ho creato un fastidio”. Allora tutti tornarono, mi strinsero le mani, e ci divertimmo un sacco sulla panca, parlando di crimini, di accoltellamenti della mamma, di stupro del papà, e sulla panca parlammo di ogni tipo di quelle cose alla moda. E tutto andava bene, fumavamo sigarette e ogni sorta di roba, finché non entrò il Sergente con dei fogli in mano, li tirò su e disse:
“Ragazzi, questo-pezzo-di-carta-ha-47-parole-37-frasi-58-parole-vogliamo-sapere-dettagli-sulla-tempistica-
del-crimine-e-ogni-altra-sorta-di-cose-che-potete-dire-attinenti-al-crimine-Voglio-sapere-
motivodellarresto-nomedellagente-e-ogni-altra-sorta-di-cose-che-potete-dire”, e parlò per tre quarti d’ora e nessuno capì una parola di quello che diceva, ma ci divertimmo a riempire i formulari e a giocherellare con le matite su quella panca, e io compilai tutta la Strage con partitura armonica in quattro parti, e ce la scrissi proprio com’era, e tutto era a posto e posai la matita, ripiegai il pezzo di carta e là dall’altro lato, nel mezzo dell’altro lato, completamente da una parte sull’altro lato, fra parentesi, in lettere maiuscole, lessi la seguente dicitura:
(“RAGAZZO, TI SEI RAVVEDUTO?”)
Andai dal Sergente e dissi: “Sergente, certo che ci hai davvero un bel fegato a chiedermi se mi sono ravveduto, dico io, dico io, insomma, sono qui a sedere sullapanca, voglio dire sto qui a sedere sulla panca del Gruppo W perché vuoi sapere se ho i requisiti morali necessari per entrare nell’esercito, bruciare donne, bambini, case e villaggi dopo che sono stato uno sparpagliaspazzatura.” Lui mi guardò e disse: “Ragazzo, non ci piacciono i tipi come e ora mandiamo le tue impronte digitali a Washington.”
Amici, da qualche parte a Washington, racchiusa in qualche fascicoletto, c’è un’analisi in bianco e nero delle mie impronte digitali. E il solo motivo per cui vi sto cantando questa canzone, adesso, è perché magari conoscete qualcuno che si trova in una situazione del genere, oppure perché siete in una situazione del genere, e se siete in una situazione del genere c’è solo una cosa che potete fare, entrare e dire: “Strizzacervelli, puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice.” Poi uscire. Sapete, se uno, magari solo uno fa così, possono pensare che è davvero fuori di testa e non lo prendono. E se lo fanno due persone, magari solo due persone ma assieme, in armonia, possono pensare che sono due finocchi e non prenderanno nessuno dei due. E provate a immaginare se lo fanno tre persone, tre persone che entrano, cantano una riga del Ristorante di Alice e escono. Penseranno che si tratta di un’organizzazione. E ve le immaginate, ve le immaginate cinquanta persone al giorno, dicevo cinquanta persone al giorno che entrano, cantano una riga del Ristorante di Alice e scono? Amici, penseranno che sia un movimento.
Ed è quello che è, Il Movimento Antistrage “Ristorante di Alice”, e tutto quello che dovete fare per entrarvi è cantarlo la prossima volta accompagnandovi con la chitarra.
Con sentimento. Così aspetteremo che venga sulla chitarra, qui, e lo canteremo quando verrà. Eccolo.
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
vacci a piedi e entraci, è giusto là dietro,
appena un chilometro dalla ferrovia,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice
E’ stato orribile. Se vuoi farla finita con la guerra e cose del genere, devi cantare a alta voce.
Sono stato a cantare questa canzone per venticinque minuti. La potrei cantare per altri venticinque minuti. Non ne sono fiero…o stanco.
E così aspetteremo che venga fuori un’altra volta, e stavolta con partitura armonica in quattro parti e sentimento.
Stiamo giusto aspettando che venga fuori, è quello che facciamo.
Tutto OK ora.
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
tranne Alice
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
vacci a piedi e entraci, è giusto là dietro,
appena un chilometro dalla ferrovia,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice
Da da da da da da da dum
Al Ristorante di Alice.
Questa canzone si chiama Il Ristorante di Alice, è su Alice, e sul ristorante, ma “Alice’s Restaurant” non è il nome del ristorante, è solo il nome della canzone ed è per questo che ho chiamato la canzone Il Ristorante di Alice.
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice,
vacci a piedi e entraci, è giusto là dietro,
appena un chilometro dalla ferrovia,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice
Ora, tutto è nato due feste del Ringraziamento fa, è stato due anni fa nel giorno del Ringraziamento, quando io ed il mio amico siamo andati a fare una visitina a Alice al ristorante, ma Alice non vive nel ristorante, vive nella chiesa vicina al ristorante, nel campanile, con suo marito Ray e il cane Fasha. E siccome vivono in quella maniera, nel campanile, hanno un sacco di spazio giù al piano di sotto dove prima ci stavano i banchi da chiesa. E siccome hanno tutto quello spazio e vedendo come hanno portato via tutti i banchi da chiesa, hanno deciso che non dovevano portare fuori la loro spazzatura per un bel po’ di tempo.
Siamo saliti là sopra, abbiamo trovato tutta la spazzatura che c’era dentro e abbiamo deciso che sarebbe stato un gesto da amici portare la spazzatura alla discarica cittadina. Così abbiamo preso una mezza tonnellata di spazzatura, l’abbiamo infilata dietro un furgone Volkswagen rosso, abbiamo preso pale, rastrelli e arnesi di distruzione e abbiamo fatto rotta verso la discarica comunale.
Beh, siamo arrivati là e c’era un grosso segnale e una catena tutta attorno alla discarica, che diceva “Chiuso il giorno del Ringraziamento”. Non avevamo mai sentito prima di una discarica chiusa il giorno del Ringraziamento, e con le lacrime agli occhi siamo andati via nel tramonto, cercando un altro posto dove buttare la spazzatura.
Non ne abbiamo trovato nessuno, finché non siamo arrivati in una stradina laterale, e sul lato della stradina laterale c’era un altro burrone di una decina di metri, e in fondo al burrone c’era un altro mucchio di spazzatura. Abbiamo deciso che un grosso mucchio è meglio di due piccoli mucchi, e piuttosto di portare su quell’altro abbiamo deciso di buttare giù il nostro.
Questo è quel che abbiamo fatto, siamo tornati alla chiesa, abbiamo fatto un pranzo di Ringraziamento assolutamente imbattibile, siamo andati a dormire e non ci siamo risvegliati che la mattina dopo, quando abbiamo ricevuto una telefonata dall’agente Obie. Ha detto, “Ragazzo, abbiamo trovato il tuo nome su una busta in fondo a mezza tonnellata di spazzatura, e volevamo giusto sapere se ne sai qualcosa.” Io gli ho risposto: “Sì, signor agente Obie, non posso mentire, ho messo io la busta sotto quella spazzatura.”
Dopo aver parlato con Obie per circa tre quarti d’ora al telefono, siamo finalmente arrivati al nocciolo della questione, e lui ha detto che dovevamo scendere laggiù e raccogliere la spazzatura, e che dovevamo anche andare a parlare con lui al commissariato. E così siamo montati sul furgone Volkswagen con le pale, i rastrelli e gli arnesi di distruzione e abbiamo fatto rotta verso il commissariato di polizia.
Ora, amici, c’erano solo due cose che Obie avrebbe potuto fare al commissariato, la prima era che avrebbe potuto darci una medaglia per essere stati tanto onesti e coraggiosi al telefono, cosa che non era molto probabile e che non ci aspettavamo, e l’altra era che avrebbe potuto sgridarci e dirci non farci più vedere a portare ancora in giro spazzatura per tutto il circondario, che era quel che ci aspettavamo; ma quando andammo al commissario c’era un’altra possibilità che non avevamo nemmeno preso in considerazione, e insomma fummo tutti e due arrestati. Ammanettati. E io dissi: “Obie, non penso di poter raccattare la spazzatura con queste manette addosso.” E lui: “Zitto, ragazzo. Siediti dietro sulla macchina di pattuglia.”
Ed è quel che facemmo, ci mettemmo a sedere dietro sulla macchina di pattuglia e ci recammo sulla (inizio citazione) Scena del delitto (fine citazione). Voglio raccontarvi della città di Stockbridge, Massachusetts, dove tutto questo accadde, avevano tre segnali di stop, due agenti e una macchina della polizia, ma quando ci recammo sulla Scena del Delitto c’erano cinque agenti e tre macchine della polizia, dato che si trattava del peggior crimine degli ultimi cinquant’anni, e tutti volevano andare sul giornale. E stavano pure usando ogni sorta di roba da sbirri che era stata non so quanto a ciondolare inutilizzata al commissariato.
Rilevavano le tracce di pneumatici col gesso, le impronte digitali, le tracce coi cani segugi, e presero pure ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con cerchetti e freccette, e una dicitura sul retro di ciascuna che spiegava come ognuna di esse avrebbe potuto essere utilizzata come prova contro di noi. Presero fotografie all’arrivo, alla partenza, del settore nord-ovest, del settore sud-ovest, per non parlare della fotografia aerea.
Dopo tutto quel patire, tornammo in prigione.Obie disse che che ci avrebbe messo in cella. Disse: “Ragazzo, ti metto in cella, dammi il portafoglio e la cintura.” E io dissi: “Obie, posso anche capire che tu voglia il mio portafoglio, così non avrò soldi da spendere in cella, ma per che cazzo la vuoi, la mia cintura?” E lui disse: “Ragazzo, non vogliamo che tu ti impicchi.” Io dissi: “Obie, pensi che io mi impicchi per sparpagliamento di spazzatura?” Obie disse che voleva essere sicuro, e, amici, lo voleva sul serio perché tirò via pure la ciambella del cesso in modo che io non potessi sbattermela in testa e affogarci, e portò via anche la carta igienica perché non potessi piegare le sbarre, srotolare fuori, insomma srotolare la carta igienica fuori dalla finestra, far scivolare fuori il rotolo e evadere. Obie voleva essere sicuro, e fu quattro o cinque ore più tardi che Alice (vi ricordate di Alice? E’ una canzone su Alice), insomma Alice arrivò e con qualche paroletta un po’ incazzata a Obie ci tirò fuori di galera su cauzione, e tornammo alla chiesa facendoci un altro pranzo di Ringraziamento assolutamente imbattibile, e non ci alzammo fino alla mattina dopo, quando dovevamo tutti quanti andare in tribunale.
Entrammo, ci mettemmo a sedere, Obie entrò con le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con i cerchietti e le freccette, ognuna con una dicitura sul retro, e si mise a sedere. Un tizio entrò e disse: “Tutti in piedi.” Tutti ci alzammo in piedi, e Obie si alzò con le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata, e il giudice entrò, si mise a sedere con una guardia, si mise a sedere e noi ci mettemmo a sedere. Obie guardò il guardiano. Poi guardò le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con cerchietti e freccette ognuna con una dicitura sul retro, e scoppiò a piangere perché Obie si rese conto che si trattava di un tipico caso di mala giustizia americana, e che non ci poteva fare nulla, e che il giudice non avrebbe guardato le ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori su carta patinata con i cerchietti e le freccette, ognuna con una dicitura sul retro che spiegava che ciascuna avrebbe potuto essere utilizzata come prova contro di noi. Insomma ci fu appioppata una multa di 50 dollari, e dovemmo ritirare su la spazzatura sotto la neve, ma non è questo che ero venuto a raccontarvi.
Ero venuto a parlare della visita di leva.
C’era un palazzo giù a New York, si chiama Whitehall Street, dove entri, dove qualcosa ti viene iniettato e poi vieni ispezionato rilevato infettato scartato e selezionato abile-arruolato. Ci andai un giorno per fare la mia visita attitudinale, ed entrai, mi misi a sedere, la sera prima mi ero divertito un mondo e mi ero inciuccato e così mi sentivo al meglio, ed avevo un aspetto al meglio, quando entrai là quella mattina. Perché volevo somigliare a un tipico ragazzo americano di New York, gente, accidenti se lo volevo, volevo sentirmi come un tipico –insomma volevo essere un tipico ragazzo americano di New York, e entrai, mi misi a sedere e fui rivoltato in tutti i modi e tutte le salse, e ogni tipo di cose brutte, meschine e orribili del genere. Entrai, mi misi a sedere, e mi dettero un pezzo di carta che diceva: “Ragazzo, vai dallo psichiatra, stanza 604.”
Andai su, e dissi: “Strizzacervelli, voglio uccidere. Cioè, insomma, voglio uccidere. Voglio vedere, voglio vedere sangue, sangue rappreso, visceri e vene da prendere a morsi. Voglio mangiare cadaveri carbonizzati. Voglio dire uccidere, Uccidere, UCCIDERE, UCCIDERE.” E cominciai a saltellare su e giù berciando “UCCIDERE! UCCIDERE!”, e lui cominciò a saltellare su e giù insieme a me berciando “UCCIDERE! UCCIDERE!”. Poi arrivò il sergente, mi appuntò una medaglia, mi rimandò giù nella hall e disse: “Sei quello che fa per noi, ragazzo.”
La cosa non mi fece sentire troppo bene.
Scesi giù nella hall beccandomi ancora più iniezioni ispezioni rilevazioni scartazioni e ogni sorta di cose che mi stavano facendo in quel posto di merda là, e ci restai due ore, tre ore, quattro ore, ci rimasi a lungo beccandomi ogni sorta di cose brutte stronze bastarde e insomma ci stavo proprio passando un brutto quarto d’ora là, e loro stavano ispezionando e iniezionando ogni mia parte, non lasciavano intatta neanche una parte. Scesi ancora, e quando alla fine arrivai a vedere l’ultima persona, entrai, entrai e mi misi a sedere dopo aver dovuto passare tutta quella roba, entrai e dissi: “Cosa vuoi?”. Lui disse, “Ragazzo, abbiamo solo una domanda da farti. Sei mai stato arrestato?”
E io provvidi a raccontargli la storia della Strage al Ristorante di Alice, con tutta l’orchestrazione e partitura armonica in cinque parti e cose del genere e tutto il fenome… -e lui mi stoppò là e mi disse: “Ragazzo, sei mai stato processato?”
E io provvidi a raccontargli la storia delle ventisette fotografie a 8/10 colori con i cerchietti e le freccette, ognuna con una dicitura sul retro, e lui mi stoppò là e mi disse: “Ragazzo, voglio che tu ti metta a sedere su quella panca che dice Gruppo W…ORA, ragazzo!!”
E insomma io andai a quella panca, a quella panca là, dove c’erano quelli del Gruppo W, dove ti mettono se non hai i requisiti morali necessari per entrare nell’esercito dopo aver commesso un certo crimine, e c’era ogni sorta di gente brutta stronza e bastarda su quella panca. Stupratori di mamme. Accoltellatori di papà. Stupratori di papà! Stupratori di papà che se ne stavano là a sedere su quella panca, accanto a me! Ed erano dei tipi brutti stronzi bastardi orribili e criminali, quelli che stavano là a sedere accanto a me. E il più brutto, più stronzo e più bastardo, lo stupratore di papà più merdoso di tutti, mi si stava avvicinando e era brutto stronzo bastardo orribile e ogni sorta di cose di quel genere, e era seduto accanto a me e diceva: “Ragazzo, cazzo hai fatto?” Io dissi: “Non ho fatto nulla, ho dovuto pagare 50 dollari e raccattare la spazzatura.” Lui disse: “Per cosa ti hanno arrestato, ragazzo?” E io dissi: “Per sparpagliamento di spazzatura:” E tutti allora si scostarono da me sulla panca, e mi fecero degli sguardi torvi e ogni sorta di cose brutte e stronze finché non dissi: “E ho creato un fastidio”. Allora tutti tornarono, mi strinsero le mani, e ci divertimmo un sacco sulla panca, parlando di crimini, di accoltellamenti della mamma, di stupro del papà, e sulla panca parlammo di ogni tipo di quelle cose alla moda. E tutto andava bene, fumavamo sigarette e ogni sorta di roba, finché non entrò il Sergente con dei fogli in mano, li tirò su e disse:
“Ragazzi, questo-pezzo-di-carta-ha-47-parole-37-frasi-58-parole-vogliamo-sapere-dettagli-sulla-tempistica-
del-crimine-e-ogni-altra-sorta-di-cose-che-potete-dire-attinenti-al-crimine-Voglio-sapere-
motivodellarresto-nomedellagente-e-ogni-altra-sorta-di-cose-che-potete-dire”, e parlò per tre quarti d’ora e nessuno capì una parola di quello che diceva, ma ci divertimmo a riempire i formulari e a giocherellare con le matite su quella panca, e io compilai tutta la Strage con partitura armonica in quattro parti, e ce la scrissi proprio com’era, e tutto era a posto e posai la matita, ripiegai il pezzo di carta e là dall’altro lato, nel mezzo dell’altro lato, completamente da una parte sull’altro lato, fra parentesi, in lettere maiuscole, lessi la seguente dicitura:
(“RAGAZZO, TI SEI RAVVEDUTO?”)
Andai dal Sergente e dissi: “Sergente, certo che ci hai davvero un bel fegato a chiedermi se mi sono ravveduto, dico io, dico io, insomma, sono qui a sedere sullapanca, voglio dire sto qui a sedere sulla panca del Gruppo W perché vuoi sapere se ho i requisiti morali necessari per entrare nell’esercito, bruciare donne, bambini, case e villaggi dopo che sono stato uno sparpagliaspazzatura.” Lui mi guardò e disse: “Ragazzo, non ci piacciono i tipi come e ora mandiamo le tue impronte digitali a Washington.”
Amici, da qualche parte a Washington, racchiusa in qualche fascicoletto, c’è un’analisi in bianco e nero delle mie impronte digitali. E il solo motivo per cui vi sto cantando questa canzone, adesso, è perché magari conoscete qualcuno che si trova in una situazione del genere, oppure perché siete in una situazione del genere, e se siete in una situazione del genere c’è solo una cosa che potete fare, entrare e dire: “Strizzacervelli, puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice.” Poi uscire. Sapete, se uno, magari solo uno fa così, possono pensare che è davvero fuori di testa e non lo prendono. E se lo fanno due persone, magari solo due persone ma assieme, in armonia, possono pensare che sono due finocchi e non prenderanno nessuno dei due. E provate a immaginare se lo fanno tre persone, tre persone che entrano, cantano una riga del Ristorante di Alice e escono. Penseranno che si tratta di un’organizzazione. E ve le immaginate, ve le immaginate cinquanta persone al giorno, dicevo cinquanta persone al giorno che entrano, cantano una riga del Ristorante di Alice e scono? Amici, penseranno che sia un movimento.
Ed è quello che è, Il Movimento Antistrage “Ristorante di Alice”, e tutto quello che dovete fare per entrarvi è cantarlo la prossima volta accompagnandovi con la chitarra.
Con sentimento. Così aspetteremo che venga sulla chitarra, qui, e lo canteremo quando verrà. Eccolo.
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
vacci a piedi e entraci, è giusto là dietro,
appena un chilometro dalla ferrovia,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice
E’ stato orribile. Se vuoi farla finita con la guerra e cose del genere, devi cantare a alta voce.
Sono stato a cantare questa canzone per venticinque minuti. La potrei cantare per altri venticinque minuti. Non ne sono fiero…o stanco.
E così aspetteremo che venga fuori un’altra volta, e stavolta con partitura armonica in quattro parti e sentimento.
Stiamo giusto aspettando che venga fuori, è quello che facciamo.
Tutto OK ora.
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
tranne Alice
Puoi avere quel che ti pare al Ristorante di Alice
vacci a piedi e entraci, è giusto là dietro,
appena un chilometro dalla ferrovia,
puoi avere quel che ti pare al ristorante di Alice
Da da da da da da da dum
Al Ristorante di Alice.
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcycle
Just want to ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcycle
It was late last night the other day
I thought I'd go up and see Ray
So l went up and I saw Ray
There was only one thing Ray could say, was:
I thought I'd go up and see Ray
So l went up and I saw Ray
There was only one thing Ray could say, was:
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcycle
Just want to ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcycle
Just last week I was on my bike
I run into a friend named Mike
Run into my friend named Mike
Mike no longer has a bike. He cries:
I run into a friend named Mike
Run into my friend named Mike
Mike no longer has a bike. He cries:
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcycle
Just want to ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't want to die
I just want to ride on my motorcycle
Written by Arlo Guthrie • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, The Bicycle Music Company
Arlo Guthrie, "Deportee" - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2eO65BqxBE
21 dic 2007 - Caricato da john sosman
This video is meant to demonstrate by music + images that the immigration problem isn't new, but has a long ...Arlo Guthrie with Emmylou Harris - Deportee - YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pa3sJTX-W_4
10 nov 2014 - Caricato da FD13NYC
Mix - Arlo Guthrie with Emmylou Harris - DeporteeYouTube. Arlo Guthrie - Deportee (Live at Farm Aid 2000 ...
(Plane Wreck at Los Gatos)
words by Woody Guthrie, music by Martin Hoffman
Interpretata tra gli altri da Joan Baez e Bob Dylan (in un famoso duetto durante il Rolling Thunder Tour del 1975) e da Arlo Guthrie e Pete Seeger
Canzone dedicata ai "deportees": braccianti stagionali messicani che, una volta terminato il lavoro, venivano rispediti a forza in patria.
words by Woody Guthrie, music by Martin Hoffman
Interpretata tra gli altri da Joan Baez e Bob Dylan (in un famoso duetto durante il Rolling Thunder Tour del 1975) e da Arlo Guthrie e Pete Seeger
Canzone dedicata ai "deportees": braccianti stagionali messicani che, una volta terminato il lavoro, venivano rispediti a forza in patria.
Il 28 gennaio del 1948, in un incidente aereo in California, vicino al
confine con il Messico, persero la vita 28 "deportati", ovvero 28
lavoratori messicani che stavano per essere forzatamente rimpatriati.
Il loro permesso di soggiorno era scaduto, insieme col contratto di lavoro, pertanto venivano rispediti in Messico da dove avrebbero cercato con ogni mezzo di tornare negli States. Era questa la vita dei lavoratori stagionali, impiegati soprattutto nella raccolta della frutta, nei campi della ricca California. Il giorno dell'incidente aereo la radio locale diede subito la notizia precisando che erano morti "soltanto" dei deportati.
Woody Guthrie scrisse il testo di questa canzone, che fu poi musicata, dieci anni dopo, da Martin Hoffman, e cantata per la prima volta da Pete Seeger nel 1958.
La canzone, forse l'ultima di Woody, non nasce solo da una notizia di cronaca sentita alla radio, o da un titolo di giornale. Nasce, soprattutto, dalla comunanza e dalla sintonia con chi subisce la sciagura. Rimanendone attonito, colpito, messo a terra. Nasce dal condividere le apirazioni e le frustrazioni e i sogni. Espressioni e linguaggio. In una parola, voce per chi voce non ha.
Francesco Senia.
Il loro permesso di soggiorno era scaduto, insieme col contratto di lavoro, pertanto venivano rispediti in Messico da dove avrebbero cercato con ogni mezzo di tornare negli States. Era questa la vita dei lavoratori stagionali, impiegati soprattutto nella raccolta della frutta, nei campi della ricca California. Il giorno dell'incidente aereo la radio locale diede subito la notizia precisando che erano morti "soltanto" dei deportati.
Woody Guthrie scrisse il testo di questa canzone, che fu poi musicata, dieci anni dopo, da Martin Hoffman, e cantata per la prima volta da Pete Seeger nel 1958.
La canzone, forse l'ultima di Woody, non nasce solo da una notizia di cronaca sentita alla radio, o da un titolo di giornale. Nasce, soprattutto, dalla comunanza e dalla sintonia con chi subisce la sciagura. Rimanendone attonito, colpito, messo a terra. Nasce dal condividere le apirazioni e le frustrazioni e i sogni. Espressioni e linguaggio. In una parola, voce per chi voce non ha.
Francesco Senia.
The crops are all in and the peaches are rotting
The oranges are packed in the creosote dumps
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
My father's own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees
They rode the big trucks till they lay down and die
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
The skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightning, and it shook all the hills
Who are these comrades that died like the dry leaves
The radio tells me they're just deportees
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
We died in your hills and we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys we died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river we died just the same
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move on
But it's six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit
To fall like dry leaves and rot on the top soil
and be called by no name except "deportee"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
The oranges are packed in the creosote dumps
They're flying you back to the Mexico border
To pay all your money to wade back again
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
My father's own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees
They rode the big trucks till they lay down and die
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
The skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon
A fireball of lightning, and it shook all the hills
Who are these comrades that died like the dry leaves
The radio tells me they're just deportees
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
We died in your hills and we died in your deserts
We died in your valleys we died on your plains
We died 'neath your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of the river we died just the same
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
Some of us are illegal, and others not wanted
Our work contract's out and we have to move on
But it's six hundred miles to that Mexican border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves.
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit
To fall like dry leaves and rot on the top soil
and be called by no name except "deportee"
Goodbye to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios mis amigos, Jesus y Maria
You won't have a name when you ride the big airplane
All they will call you will be deportees
Versione italiana di Michele Murino
da maggie's farm
da maggie's farm
DEPORTATI
(Disastro aereo a Los Gatos)
I raccolti sono tutti caricati e le pesche stanno marcendo
Le arance sono tutte impacchettate in ammassi di creosoto
Vi stanno riportando indietro in volo verso il confine messicano
perchè voi poi spendiate tutto il vostro denaro per guadare di nuovo
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Il padre di mio padre guadò quel fiume
Gli presero tutto il denaro che aveva guadagnato nella sua vita
I miei fratelli e le mie sorelle lavoravano nei frutteti
Guidando i grossi autocarri per tutta la vita
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
L'aereo prese fuoco sul Los Gatos Canyon
Una sfera infuocata di lampi che fece tremare le colline
Chi sono questi compagni che son morti come foglie secche
Alla radio sento dire che sono solo deportati
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Abbiam trovato la morte tra le vostre colline e nei vostri deserti
nelle vostre valli e nelle vostre pianure
sotto i vostri alberi e nei vostri cespugli
Su entrambe le rive del fiume abbiamo trovato eguale morte
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Alcuni di noi sono clandestini, altri indesiderati
Il nostro contratto di lavoro è terminato e dobbiamo trasferirci
Ma ci sono seicento miglia dal confine Messicano
Ci danno la caccia come fuorilegge, come ladri di bestiame, come rapinatori
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
E' questo il modo migliore con cui possiam far crescere i nostri frutteti
E' questo il modo migliore con cui possiam far crescere la buona frutta
morire come foglie secche e marcire sul terreno
ed esser conosciuti con nessun nome se non "deportato"
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
(Disastro aereo a Los Gatos)
I raccolti sono tutti caricati e le pesche stanno marcendo
Le arance sono tutte impacchettate in ammassi di creosoto
Vi stanno riportando indietro in volo verso il confine messicano
perchè voi poi spendiate tutto il vostro denaro per guadare di nuovo
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Il padre di mio padre guadò quel fiume
Gli presero tutto il denaro che aveva guadagnato nella sua vita
I miei fratelli e le mie sorelle lavoravano nei frutteti
Guidando i grossi autocarri per tutta la vita
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
L'aereo prese fuoco sul Los Gatos Canyon
Una sfera infuocata di lampi che fece tremare le colline
Chi sono questi compagni che son morti come foglie secche
Alla radio sento dire che sono solo deportati
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Abbiam trovato la morte tra le vostre colline e nei vostri deserti
nelle vostre valli e nelle vostre pianure
sotto i vostri alberi e nei vostri cespugli
Su entrambe le rive del fiume abbiamo trovato eguale morte
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Alcuni di noi sono clandestini, altri indesiderati
Il nostro contratto di lavoro è terminato e dobbiamo trasferirci
Ma ci sono seicento miglia dal confine Messicano
Ci danno la caccia come fuorilegge, come ladri di bestiame, come rapinatori
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
E' questo il modo migliore con cui possiam far crescere i nostri frutteti
E' questo il modo migliore con cui possiam far crescere la buona frutta
morire come foglie secche e marcire sul terreno
ed esser conosciuti con nessun nome se non "deportato"
Addio Juan, addio Rosalita
Addio amici miei, Jesus e Maria
Non avrete un nome quando sarete su quel grande aeroplano
Il solo nome che vi daranno sarà deportati
Won't need to get yourself prepared
When you're on that last train for glory
You'll know you're reasonably there
Maybe you ain't walked on any highway
You've just been flyin' in the air
But if you're on that last train to glory
You'll know you must have paid your fare
Maybe you've been lying down in the jailhouse
Maybe you are hungry and poor
Maybe your ticket on the last train to glory
Is the stranger who is sleeping on your floor
I ain't a man of constant sorrow
I ain't seen trouble all day long
We are only passengers on the last train to glory
That will soon be long, long gone
I want to hop on the last train in the station
Won't need to get yourself prepared
When you're on the last train to glory
You'll know you're reasonably there
Written
by Paul Maurice Kelly, Peter Crosbie, Angelique Cooper • Copyright ©
Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
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