Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople
Mott The Hoople & Thunderthighs & Lynsey De Paul
Now Alice needed money I put $10 on the breeze
As the wind died away she sank way below her knees
And as a hurricane passed by she clutched the money from the sky
She must have been at least a fathom high
She works the 42nd beat on 42nd street
With all her golden ambitions and dead rhinestones in her feet
And when a stranger said she sucked she just smiled believing luck
As she climed into his truck to make a buck
Oh my god, she's running round the trees
Said she couldn't touch them because they're so real
Alice you remind me of Manhattan
The seedy and the snaz, the shoeboys and the satins
Like a throne made of gilt that too many johns have sat in
Oh, I got my eyes on you
Now keep a watch on your watch and a watch on her watch
Cause if you ain't too careful he's gonna kick you in the crotch
And you're out in the cold and you know that you've been rolled
And the cops don't even stop and you feel old
See Alice really liked you but you stayed a while too long
Now she wants you to forget it and come back before too long
But make it quick if you could, she's gonna star in Hollywood
The producer seems to think, she's kinda good
Me and my camera eyes sitting on a fence
Laughing at the lights of New York City
Alice you remind of Manhattan
The seedy and snaz, the shoeboys and the satins
Like a throne made of gilt that too many johns have sat in
Oh, just come over
ROLL UP
See Alice on the palace where her name adorns the boards
Ain't no flash in her Cannes, she got the willpower of a horse
And it's a long way to Broadway from a 42nd lay
Or is it really just a couple of blocks away
Now I wonder if she wonders if I wonder if she wonders
About the times I put her down when she seemed to be right under?
She told me morals are traditions, contradictions, superstitions
See Alice is always based on split decisions
Me and my stupidity sittin' on a fence
And digging what I thought was New York City
Oh Alice, you remind me of Manhattan
The seedy and snaz, the shoeboys and the satins
Like a throne made of gilt that too many johns have sat in
Oh, I like you
Yeah Alice, the lights were meant for you
Your weaknesses successful and your selfishness the clue
You gotta lose what you get and for what you get you lose
Oh, I know it
Oh Alice, don't stop and think a minute
Or your brain is gonna get ya, drop your heart right in it
And you're a shooting star and you'll die if you don't win it
Yeah
You didn't make the book
Alice was written by Ian Hunter.
Alice was produced by Dale Griffin & Ian Hunter & Overend Watts.