Mclean Don

American Pie

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 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 levy but the

levy was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye singing

"This will be the day that I die. This will 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. Now 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 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

singing bye bye Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levy, but the

levy was dry. Them good old boys were drinkin whiskey and rye singing,

"This will be the day that I die. This will be the day that I die."

 

Now for ten years, we've been on our own and moss grow fat on a rolling

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 in 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 Lenin read a book on 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 levy, but the levy was dry. Them good old boys were drinking whiskey

and rye singing, "This will be the day that I die. This will be the day

that I die."

 

Helter skelter in a summer swelter. The birds flew off the 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 halftime air was sweet perfume while

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 levy, but the levy was dry. Them good old boys were

drinking whiskey and rye singing, "This will be the day that I die.

This will 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 candle stick 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

planes climbed high into the night it took like 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 levy, but the levy was

dry. Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye singing, "This

will be the day that I die. This will 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,

the 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 levy, but the levy was dry. Them good old boys

were drinking whiskey and rye singing, "This will be the day that I die.

This will be the day that I die." They were singing bye bye Miss

American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levy, but the levy was dry. Them

good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye singing, "This will be the

day that I die."