In 1960, Carl Rowan, a distinguished journalist and government official, was denied membership in one of Washington's exclusive clubs because he was black. I got mad and wrote this song.—JG.


I BELONG TO A PRIVATE CLUB
Written by Joe Glazer, ©1971.
As recorded by Joe Glazer on "Garbage, and Other Songs of Our Time"

I belong to a private club,
A terribly, terribly private club.
I belong to a private club in Washington, DC.
We don't take colored; we don't take Jews.
We're terribly careful of whom we choose
To associate with in this private club in Washington, DC.

We don't take people named Gonzalez.
They eat frijoles; they eat tamales.
We don't take Greeks, Armenians, Eyetalians—
Too much garlic, too many scallions.
You see, it's a terribly private club in Washington, DC.

Yes, I belong to a private club,
A terribly, terribly private club.
I belong to a private club in Washington, DC.
We have the most exclusive bar
With barmaids from the D.A.R.
Even the janitors have to have a family pedigree.

Where did you come from? Whom do you know?
How far back does your family go?
Are you of pure American stock?
Did your father land at Plymouth Rock?
You see, it's a terribly private club in Washington, DC.

If you are Catholic or Orthodox Greek,
Please don't apply; you'd feel like a freak.
You just wouldn't fit in this private club in Washington, DC.
You may have descended from dukes and counts,
But your application we'd have to denounce
If your name was strange and hard to pronounce
In Washington, DC.

Eisenhower?
Giuseppe DiMaggio?
Jacqueline Bouvier Onassis?

We just can't stand variety.
It complicates society.
This club is boring, there's no denying,
But it's oh so terribly satisfying
To know that the membership consists exclusively of me!
Nobody else but me!
Pure American me!