Long long time ago, i can still remember,
How that music used to make me smile,
And i knew that 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 newspaper 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 widow bride,
But something touched me deep inside, the day the music died,

Chorus: 	so, bye bye mister american pie,
		drove my chevy to the levy but the levy was dry,
		them good old boys drinking whiskey and rye,
		singing 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,
And do you believe in rock n roll,
Can music save your moral soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow,
Well i know that you're in love with him,
'Cos i saw you dancing in the gym,
You both kicked off your shoes,
Man i dig those rhythm and blues
Well i was a lonely teenage bronk and buck,
With a pink carnation and a pick up truck,
But i knew that i was out of luck, the day the music died.

Now for ten years we've been on our own,
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone,
But that's not how it used to be,
When the jester sang to the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean,
In a voice that came from you and me,
And while the king was looking don,
The jester stole his thorny crown,
The court room was adjourned,
No verdict was returned,
And while lenin read a book on marx
The quartet practised in the park,
And we sang durges in the dark,
The day the music died.

Helter skelter in a summer swelter,
The birds flew off to a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and fallin' fa-s-t,
Landed foul on the grass,
The players tried for a forward pass,
But the jester on the sidelines in a cast,
Now the half-time air was sweet perfumed,
While the sergeants played a marching tune,
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance,
'Cos the player tried to take the field,
The marching band refused to yield,
Do you recall what was the field,
The day the music died.

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,
'Cos fire is the devil's only friend,
And as i watched him on the stage,
My hands were clenched in fists of rage,
No angel born in hell,
Could bread that satan spell,
And as the planes climbed high into the night,
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughin with delight,
The day the music died.

I met a girl who sang the blues,
I asked her for some happy news,
She just smiled and turned away,
I went down to the sacred store,
Where i'd heard the music played 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 the most,
The father, son and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast,
The day the music died.

Chorus twice...

American pie