Mclean Don
American Pie
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."