This song is called "Alice's Restaurant". 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".
[singing]
You can get anything you wantNow it all started two Thanksgivin's ago. It was on two years ago on Thanksgivin', 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 Facha the dog.
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
And livin' in the bell tower like that they got a lotta room downstairs where the pews used to be. And 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 that 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's a big sign and a chain across the dump sayin' "Closed on Thanksgivin'" and we had never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgivin' before, and with tears in our eyes, we drove off into the sunset lookin' for another place to put the garbage.
We didn't find one. 'Til we came to a side road, and off the side of the side road was another fifteen-foot foot cliff, and at the bottom of the cliff was another pile of garbage. And we decided that one big pile was better'n two little piles, and rather than bring that one up we decided to throw ours down.
That's what we did.
Drove back to the church, had a Thanksgivin' dinner that couldn't be beat, went to sleep, and didn't get up until the next mornin' when we got a phone call from Officer Obie.
Said, "Kid, we found your name on a 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 speakin' to Obie for about forty-five minutes on the telephone, he 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 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 station.
Now friends...there was only one or two things that Obie coulda done at the police station, and the first was that he coulda give us a medal for bein' so brave and honest on the telephone -- which wasn't very likely and we didn't expect it -- and the other thing was that he coulda bawled us out and told us never to be seen drivin' garbage around the vicinity again -- which is what we expected.
But when we got to the police officer 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."
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 wanna tell you about the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts. What has happened here is 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, bein' the biggest crime of the last fifty years, and everybody wanted to get in the newspaper story about it.
And they was usin' up all kinds of cop equipment that they had hangin' around the police officer station. They was takin' plaster tire tracks, footprints, dog smellin' prints, and they took twenty-seven 8x10 color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explainin' what each one was, to be used as evidence against us. They took pictures of the approach, the getaway, the northwest corner and southwest corner...and that's not to mention the aerial photography.
After the ordeal, we went back to the jail. Obie said he was gonna put us in the cell.
Said, "Kid, I'm gonna put ya in the cell. I want your wallet and your belt."
And I said, "Obie, I can understand ya wantin' my wallet -- so I don't have any money to spend in the cell -- but what do ya want my belt for?"
And he said, "Kid...we don't want any hangin's."
Said, "Obie, did ya think I was gonna hang myself for litterin'?"
Obie said he was makin' 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... roll the toilet paper out the window, slide down the roll, and have an escape.
Obie was makin' 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 another Thanksgivin' dinner that couldn't be beat, and didn't get up until the next mornin' when we all had to go to court.
We walked in. Sat down. Obie came in with the twenty-seven 8x10 color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one, and sat down. A man came in, said "all rise."
We all stood up and Obie stood up with the twenty-seven 8x10 color glossy pictures, and the judge walked in, sat down with a seein' eye dog, and he sat down. We sat down.
Obie looked at the seein' eye dog and then at the twentyseven 8x10 color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one. And looked at the seein' eye dog. And then at the twenty-seven 8x10 color glossy pictures with the 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 nothin' he could do about it. And the judge wasn't gonna look at the twenty-seven 8x10 color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explainin' what each one was to be used as evidence against us. And we was fined fifty dollars and had to pick up the garbage in the snow.
But...that's not what I came to tell you about.
Came to talk about the draft.
Got a buildin' down New York City -- it's called Whitehall Street -- where you walk in and get injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected, and selected. I went down to get my physical examination one day, and I walked in and I sat down. Got good and drunk the night before so I looked and felt my best when I went in that mornin'. 'Cause I wanted to look like the all-American kid from New York City. Man, I wanted...I wanted to feel like 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 of mean, nasty, ugly things, and I walked in, I sat down. They gave me a piece of paper, said, "Kid, see the psychiatrist, Room 604."
And I...I went up there.
I said, "Shrink...I wanna kill. I mean, I wanna...I wanna kill. Kill. I wan...I wanna see...I wanna see blood and gore and guts and veins in m'teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill. Kill! KILL! KILL!!"
And I started jumpin' up and down yellin' "Kill! Kill!", and he started jumpin' up and down with me and we was both jumpin' up and down yellin' "Kill! Kill!" And the sergeant came over, pinned a medal on me, sent me down the hall, said "You're our boy."
Didn't feel too good about it.
I 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 goin' through all kinds of mean, nasty, ugly things, and I was just havin' a tough time there. And they was inspectin', injectin' every single part of me, and they was leavin' no part untouched.
Proceeded through and I was...we finally came to the very last man. I walked in...walked in, sat down after a whole big thing there, and I walked up, I said "What do ya want?"
And he said, "Kid, we only got one question: Have ya ever been arrested?"
And I proceeded to tell him the story of Alice's Restaurant Massacree, with full orchestration and five-part harmony and stuff like that, and then on the finale he stopped right there and said, "Kid, did ya ever go to court?"
I proceeded to tell him the story of the twenty-seven 8x10 color glossy pictures with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one. He stopped me right there and said, "Kid...I want you to go over 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 was...there's Group W is where they...where they put ya if you may not be moral enough to...to join the army after committin' your special crime. And here was all kinds of mean, nasty, ugly-lookin' people on the bench. There's mother rapers, father stabbers...father rapers. Father rapers sittin' right there on the bench next to me! And one...he was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible, and crime, fightin' guys was sittin' there on the bench. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one -- the meanest father raper of 'em all -- was comin' over to me, and he was mean and ugly and nasty and horrible and all kinds of things, and he sat down next to me, said, "Kid...what'd ya get?"
I said, "I didn't get nothin'. I had to pay fifty dollars and pick up the garbage."
He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?" and I said litterin'. And they all moved away from me on the bench there in the area. I bought all kinds of mean, nasty things 'til I said, "And creatin' a nuisance."
Then they all came back, shook my hand, and we had a great time on the bench, talkin' about crime. Mother stabbin', father rapin'...all kinds of groovy things that we was talkin' about on the bench. And everything was fine. We was smokin' cigarettes and all kinds of things, until the sergeant came over.
Had some paper in his hand. Held it up and
said, "Kids...this piece of paper's got fortysevenwords,
thirtysevensentences, fiftyeightwords. Wewannaknowdetailsofthecrimeatthetimeofthecrimeand
everyotherkindofthingthatyougottosaypertainin'toand
aboutthecrime. Wannaknowthearrestin'officer'sname
andanyotherkindofthingyou'vegottosay--"
And he talked for forty-five minutes and nobody understood a word that he said, but we had fun fillin' out the forms and playin' with the pencils on the bench there. I filled out the massacree with the four part harmony, and wrote it down there just like it was and everything was fine. And I put down my pencil, and I turned over the piece of paper and...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 followin' words:
("KID, HAVE YOU REHABILITATED YOURSELF?")
I went over to the sergeant. I said, "Sergeant, you've got a lotta damn gall to ask me if I've rehabilitated myself. I mean...I mean...I MEAN, I just...I'm sittin' here on the bench...I mean, I'm sittin' here on the Group W bench 'cause you wanna know if I'm moral enough to join the army, burn women, kids, houses, and villages after bein' a litterbug."
He looked at me. Said, "Kid...we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send your 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 singin' you this song now is 'cause you may know somebody in a similar situation. Or you may be in a similar situation, and if you're in a situation like that there's only one thing you can do, is walk into the shrink wherever ya are. Just walk in, say, "Shrink..."
[singing]
You can get anything you wantAnd walk out.
At Alice's Restaurant
You know, if one pers-- 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 'em. And if three people do it...three... can ya imagine three people walkin' in and singin' a bar of "Alice's Restaurant" and walkin' out? They may think it's an organization! And can you...can you imagine fifty people a day...I said fifty people a day, walkin' in singin' a bar of "Alice's Restaurant" and walkin' out? Then, friends, they may think it's a movement.
And that's what it is. The Alice's Restaurant Anti-massacree Movement, and all ya gotta do to join is to sing it the next time it comes around on the guitar.
With feelin'.
So, we'll wait 'til it comes around on the guitar, here, and sing it when it does.
Here it comes.
[singing, with crowd]
You can get anything you wantThat was horrible.
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
If ya wanna end war and stuff, ya gotta sing loud. Ya could put a lot-- I've been singin' this song for twenty-five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty-five minutes.
I'm not proud.
Or tired.
So we'll wait 'til it comes around again, and this time with four-part harmony and feelin'.
We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doin'.
All right now...
[singing, with crowd]
You can get anything you want
At Alice's Restaurant
(Excepting Alice)
You can get anything you want
At Alice's Restaurant.
I say, walk right in, it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track
And you can get anything you want
At Alice's Restaurant Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-dum
At Alice's Restaurant.
Transcriber's Notes:
First off, this transcription is presented without permission; however, no challenge to Arlo Guthrie's or anyone else's copyrights is intended. I've done the best I can to preserve the accuracy and flavor of the version from the Alice's Restaurant CD, but if I've got something wrong drop me a note and I'll happily correct it.
From time to time, I get e-mails from people wanting to know more about the historical details of the 'massacree' than I personally know. If you're reading this with your cursor poised above the e-mail button, I'd like to refer you first to the following resources on the web:
- ArloNet
- I don't know whether or not this is the definitive Arlo Guthrie site, but I'd say you'd be hard-pressed to find a more extensive collection of ArloInfo. I sure wish it had been around or, at least, that I'd been able to find it before I went to the work of doing the transcription you see above.
- Manfred Helfert's History in Song pages (main page)
- This page features the complete text of "Alice's Restaurant", from This is the Arlo Guthrie Songbook (New York, NY, 1969, pp. 91-95.)--which I didn't even know existed--as well as historical notes and a reproduction of a newspaper clipping that reports the events of the massacree. A down side to this page is that it spawns some very aggressive (read 'annoying') pop-up advertising, so have your pop-up killer handy.
- The Guthrie Center
- Home pages of the Guthrie Center and Guthrie Foundation. Of particular interest in this context are a few pictures of the church from the song.