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, 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.
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.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye.
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day.
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 and 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 dancing in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
And I dig those red up and blue.
I was a lonely teenage bronco boy.
With a pick-up nation and a pick-up truck.
But I knew I was out of love the day the music died.
I started singing.
Bye-bye, Miss American Pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye.
Singing, 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.
Moss grows fat on a rolling stone.
But that's not how it goes.
It used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen.
In a coat you 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.
Now, verdict was returned.
And while Lenin the Red had pulled God marks.
The court kept practice 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 drinking whiskey and rye.
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.
Bye-bye, Miss American Pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye.
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.
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 drinking whiskey and rye.
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.
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