Arlo Guthrie - The Motorcycle Song (The Significance Of The Pickle) Lyrics

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I don't want a pickle

I just want to ride on my motor-cicle

And I don't want a tickle

I'd rather ride on my motor-cicle

And I don't want to die

I just want to ride on my motor-cy-cle

You know it's been about 12 years now that I've been singin' this dumb song

You know it's amazin' it's amazin' that somebody can get away with singin' a song this dumb for that long

But you know hey you know what's more amazin' than that is that uh somebody can make a livin' singin' a song this dumb

But that's America.

You know I told everything there was to tell about it

When I wrote it how come why what for

But you know the one thing that I always used to neglect to explain was the significance of the pickle

There was a time I was ridin' my bike

I was going down a mountain road

I was doin' 150 miles an hour

On one side of the mountain road there was a mountain

And on the other side there was nothin'

There was just a cliff in the air

But I wasn't payin' attention you know

I was just driving down the road

All of a sudden by accident

A string broke off my guitar

It broke you know right there

Went flying across the road that way

Wrapped itself around a yield sign

Well the sign didn't break

It didn't come out the ground

And the string stayed wrapped around it

Stayed in the other end of my guitar

Held onto my guitar with one hand

I held onto the bike with the other

I made a sharp turn off the road

Luckily I didn't go into the mountain

I went over the cliff

I was doin' 150 miles an hour sideways

And 500 feet down at the same time

Hey I was lookin' for the cops

Cuz' you know

Hey I knew that it it was illegal

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Well I knew that that was it

I knew I didn't have long to live in this world

And in my last remaining seconds in the world

I knew it was my obligation to write one last farewell song to the world

Took out a piece of paper

I pulled out a pen

And it didn't write

I I had to put another ink cartridge in it

I sat back and I thought a while

And it come to me

It come like a flash

Like a vision burnt across the clouds

I just wrote it down

I learnt it right away

I don't want a pickle

Just want to ride on my motor-cicle

And I don't want a tickle

I'd rather ride on my motor-cicle

And I don't want to die

I just want to ride on my motor-cy-cle

Hey I you know

I knew it wasn't the best song I ever wrote

But I didn't have time to change it

But you know the most amazin' thing was that I didn't die

I landed on the top of a police car….and it died

I come into town I come into town at a screamin' 175 miles an hour

Singing my new motorcycle song

I stopped out front of the deli

And out in front of the deli was a man eating the most tremendous pickle

A pickle the size of four pregnant watermelons

Just a huge monster pickle

He walked up to me pushed the pickle in my face and started asking me questions

It was about the same time I noticed the pickle in my face

I noticed a cord hangin' from the long end of the pickle

Goin' up his sleeve down his shirt into his pants and shoes

Out into a briefcase he had near his feet

I knew it wasn't an ordinary pickle

But it was about the same time I noticed the cord hangin' out of the pickle

That a four foot cop arrived with a five foot gun

A cop that one time musta been around six foot three

But was met at the bottom of a mountain

By a flyin' singin' writin' weirdo freak

He walked up and with one tremendous hand

He grabbed the pickle away from the other guy

He threw it a hundred feet straight up in the air

And while the pickle was half way between going up and coming down

He took out his gun and put a three inch bullet hole

Right through the long end of the pickle

It started comin' back down

He stuck out his foot

He caught the pickle on his big toe

And balancing the pickle on his big toe

He reached his huge hand into his little pocket

Pulled out a 10 foot ticket

He borrowed my pen

He wrote it up

Then he rolled it up

And stuffed it in the bullet hole in the middle of the pickle

Took the pickle with the ticket

And shoved it down my throat

It was at that very moment that the pickle with the ticket was goin' down my throat

That I knew for sure that that I didn't want a pickle

I don't want a pickle

Just want to ride on my motor-cicle

And I don't want a tickle

I'd rather ride on my motor-cicle

And I don't want to die

Just want to ride on my motor-cy-cle

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