A long, long time ago... I can still remember How that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance That
I could make those people dance And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.
But february made me shiver With
every paper I’d deliver. Bad news on the doorstep; I couldn’t take one more step.
I can’t remember
if I cried When I read about his widowed bride, But something touched me deep inside The day the music died.
So
bye-bye, miss american pie. Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. And them good old boys were drinkin’
whiskey and rye Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die. "this’ll be the day that I die."
Did
you write the book of love, And do you have faith in God above, If the Bible tells you so? Do you believe in rock
’n roll, Can music save your mortal soul, And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
Well, I know that
you’re in love with him `cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym. You both kicked off your shoes. Man, I dig
those rhythm and blues.
I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck With a pink carnation and a pickup truck, But
I knew I was out of luck The day the music died.
I started singin’, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove
my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye And singin’,
"this’ll be the day that I die. "this’ll be the day that I die."
Now for ten years we’ve been
on our own And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone, But that’s not how it used to be. When the jester sang
for the king and queen, In a coat he borrowed from james dean And a voice that came from you and me,
Oh, and
while the king was looking down, The jester stole his thorny crown. The courtroom was adjourned; No verdict was returned. And
while lennon read a book of marx, The quartet practiced in the park, And we sang dirges in the dark The day the music
died.
We were singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them
good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die. "this’ll
be the day that I die."
Helter skelter in a summer swelter. The birds flew off with a fallout shelter, Eight
miles high and falling fast. It landed foul on the grass. The players tried for a forward pass, With the jester on
the sidelines in a cast.
Now the half-time air was sweet perfume While the sergeants played a marching tune. We
all got up to dance, Oh, but we never got the chance! `cause the players tried to take the field; The marching band
refused to yield. Do you recall what was revealed The day the music died?
We started singing, "bye-bye, miss
american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey
and rye And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die. "this’ll be the day that I die."
Oh, and
there we were all in one place, A generation lost in space With no time left to start again. So come on: jack be
nimble, jack be quick! Jack flash sat on a candlestick Cause fire is the devil’s only friend.
Oh, and as
I watched him on the stage My hands were clenched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell Could break that satan’s
spell. And as the flames climbed high into the night To light the sacrificial rite, I saw satan laughing with delight The
day the music died
He was singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee
was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye And singin’, "this’ll be the day that I
die. "this’ll be the day that I die."
I met a girl who sang the blues And I asked her for some happy news, But
she just smiled and turned away. I went down to the sacred store Where I’d heard the music years before, But
the man there said the music wouldn’t play.
And in the streets: the children screamed, The lovers cried, and
the poets dreamed. But not a word was spoken; The church bells all were broken. And the three men I admire most: The
father, son, and the holy ghost, They caught the last train for the coast The day the music died.
And they were
singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. And them good old boys
were drinkin’ whiskey and rye Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die. "this’ll be the day that
I die."
They were singing, "bye-bye, miss american pie." Drove my chevy to the levee, But the levee was dry. Them
good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye Singin’, "this’ll be the day that I die."
|