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Alice passed away this week,
But it would just be wrong
If a Turkey Day went by without
Us listening to her song*.

For Arlo Guthrie wrote a tale
About her restaurant
And he started a tradition
Which, each year, I always want.

We’re sitting in the car, en route
To have our special meal
And at noon on classic radio,
My husband at the wheel,

The eighteen minute tune comes on;
We laugh at every word
Of this “massacree,” a story
Which, though true, is most absurd.

And when the chorus comes around,
We belt it loud and clear,
Reminding us that it’s Thanksgiving
And we’re all still here.

Today we pulled up early,
(Me, my daughter and my spouse)
To the driveway of our son
And soon he exited his house

In the pouring rain and climbed inside,
While Arlo did his thing
And he joined right in, so chorus time,
The four of us did sing.

More family waited in his home,
But they did not take part.
Still, this was the moment of the day
That really touched my heart.

*Alice’s Restaurant Massacree” by Arlo Guthrie

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