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 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 So bye,
and then good old boys were drinking 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.
How do you believe in rock and roll?
Can music save your model's soul?
And you teach me how to dance real slow?
Well, I know that you're in love with him, because I saw you dancing in the band.
You both kicked off your shoes,
and I did those rhythm and blues I was a lonely teenage,
bronkin' but with a pink carnation and a pick-up truck But I knew I was out of luck to the day
The music was so I started singing by, by Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levee, but levee was dry.
Them old boys were freaking whiskey and rye, and singing this will be the day that I'd die.
This will be the day that I'd that I died.
Now for ten years we've been on our own and moss grows fat out of rolling stone, but that's not how it used to be.
When the Jester sang for the king and queen in the corner.
He borrowed from James Dean, and a voice that came from you and me.
Oh, and while the king was looking down, the stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned.
Now burning words return,
and while landing red a book of marks,
A quartet practiced in the park, and we sang dirges in the dark the day, The music died.
by American pie Don't machete it to the levee,
it was dry Lend it all boys,
whiskey and rye And singin'
this'll be the day that I die This'll be the day that I die
and help the sculptor in the summer swelter birds
who flew off where they'd fall out of shell
eight miles high and they're falling fast
grass the players tried for a forward pass with the jet
On the sidelines in the cast
Now the halftime air was sweet perfume While the sergeant's played a marching tune We all got up to dance Oh,
but we never got the chance Of the place trying to take the field
The marching band refused to yield Do you recall what was revealed today?
The music died We started singing live by Miss America I don't wish I'd been to the levee,
but the levee was died And good old boys,
we're making whiskey and wine Singing,
this will be the day that I died This will be the day that I died 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 cuz
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 climb high into the night.
To delight the sacrificial rite,
I saw a safe living with delight today The music died He was singing by,
by Miss America I drove a shell into the living,
by the living And the lower points will take and whisking right And saying,
this will be the day that I died This will be the day that I died
I met a girl who sang the blues And died after four summers 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 men there said the music wouldn't play.
In the streets the children screamed,
The lovers cried and the poets dreamed,
The church bells overbroken,
And the three men I admire The father,
son, and the whole host They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died And they were singing By my Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.
And then good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, Singing this will be the day that I'd be.
This'll be the day that I die They were singing by,
by Miss American pie Don't must share it to the levy But the levy was dry
Then good old boys would die Singing this'll be the day that I died.
