Chords for Arlo Guthrie/Motorcycle Song

[N] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ I _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ don't want a pickle, _ _ _ _ _ _ just want to ride my motorcycle. _ _
_ _ _ _ And I don't want a tickle, _ _ _ _ _ I'd rather ride my motorcycle.
_ _ _ _ _ And I [G] don't want to die, _ _ _ just want to ride my _ _ motorcycle.
_ _ _ _ You _ _ _ _ _ know, I've been singing this song for about eight or nine years. _
_ That's amazing _ that somebody could get away with singing a song like this for about eight
years, you know?
_ [C] _ _ [G] _ _ _
You [Gm] know, what's even more amazing than that is that _ somebody could make [G] a living singing
a song like this for eight years. _ _ _ _ _ _
And I told about everything I could about this song.
I told about when I wrote it and how and why.
_ But the one thing I always used to neglect to explain _ was the significance _ [Gm] of the pickle. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [G] It was about the time I was riding my motorcycle down a mountain road.
I was doing 150 miles an hour. _
_ I was playing my guitar. _ _
On one side of the mountain road, there was a mountain. _
And on the other side, there was nothing.
_ There was just a cliff in the air.
_ _ _ [C] _
[Gm] I wasn't paying attention.
And you know that's dangerous, _ driving your motorcycle on a mountain road, a lot of curves
and stuff like that, playing your guitar.
_ [G]
All of a sudden, [Eb] a string broke off [G] my guitar.
_ _ _ [C] It broke right [Gm] around here, went [Eb] flying across the road and wrapped itself [Gm] around a yield sign.
_ _ _ _ _ _ Well, you know, the sign didn't break and it didn't pull out of the ground.
The string didn't break, _ didn't come out of my guitar.
So I held on to my guitar _ and I held on to my bike and I made a sharp turn off the road. _ _ _
[G] But luckily, _ I didn't go into the mountain.
_ I went over the cliff. _
I was doing 150 miles an hour sideways and 500 feet down at the same time.
I was looking for the cops _ because I knew that it was illegal. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ [Gm] Well, I _ knew that that was it. _
I knew that I didn't [G] have long to live in this world. _
And in [C] my last remaining [G] seconds in the world, I decided to write [Gm] one last farewell song
to the world.
_ _ I took out a piece of paper. _
_ I took out a pen.
_ _ [G]
I sat back and thought a [Gm] while and then I started to write. _
_ I don't want to pickle.
_ Just want to ride my [G] motorcycle.
_ _ I don't want to tickle.
I'd rather ride my motorcycle.
And I don't want to die.
Just want to ride my motorcycle. _ _ _ _
_ Well, I knew it wasn't the best song I ever wrote, _ _ but I didn't have time to change it. _
_ But you know, you know, the amazing thing is [Gm] that I didn't die.
I landed on the top of a police car and it died.
_ I drove into town [G] at a screaming 175 _ miles an hour singing my motorcycle [Gm] song.
I pulled into town and stopped out front of the general store.
And out front of the store was a man eating the most tremendous pickle.
A pickle the size of [G] four pregnant watermelons.
Such a huge monster pickle.
_ He walked up and pushed a pickle in my face and started asking me questions.
And it was about the same time I noticed a pickle in my face.
I noticed a cord [Gm] hanging from the long end of the pickle going up his sleeve, down his
shirt, into his pants, [Cm] into his shoes, out his heel, and into a [G] briefcase he had near his feet. _ _
[Gm] _ [G] Well, I knew it wasn't an ordinary pickle.
_ _ _ It was about the same time I noticed the cord coming out of the pickle that a four-foot
cop arrived with a five-foot gun.
A cop that one time must have been around six-foot-seven was met at the bottom of a
mountain by a flying, singing, writing weirdo. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [Gm] Well, _ he walked up and with one tremendous hand, he grabbed the pickle from the other
guy and threw it 100 feet straight up in the air.
[G] _ _ _
_ _ _ While the pickle was halfway between going up and coming down, he took out his five-foot
gun and put a three-inch bullet hole right through the long end of the pickle. _
_ _ Pickle started coming down. _
_ _ _ _ [Gm] _ _ _ [Cm] _
_ _ _ [G] He caught the pickle on his big toe. _ _ _ _ _ _
Balancing the pickle on his big toe, he took out a ten-foot ticket.
_ He rode it up, and then he rolled it up, took the ticket 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.
_ _ _ Well, it was at that very moment that the pickle with the ticket was going down my throat _
_ that I knew for sure that I didn't want a pickle. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ I don't want a pickle, _ _ _ _ _ _ just want to ride my motorcycle. _ _ _ _ _ _
And I don't want a tickle, _ _ _ _ _ I'd rather ride my motorcycle. _ _ _ _
_ And I _ don't want to die, _ _ _ just want to ride my _ _ _ _ motorcycle.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ [D] _ _ _ _ _ _
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