american pie

Garth Brooks

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, theyââ?¬â?¢d be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper Iââ?¬â?¢d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldnââ?¬â?¢t take one more step.

I canââ?¬â?¢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 levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
Singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die.
"thisââ?¬â?¢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 ââ?¬â?¢n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that youââ?¬â?¢re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancinââ?¬â?¢ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncinââ?¬â?¢ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singinââ?¬â?¢,
"bye-bye, miss american pie."
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
And singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die.
"thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die."

Now for ten years weââ?¬â?¢ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollinââ?¬â?¢ stone,
But thatââ?¬â?¢s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he 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;
No verdict was returned.
And while Lenin read a book of 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 levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
And singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die.
"thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die."

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a 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 half-time air was sweet perfume
While the 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 levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
And singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die.
"thisââ?¬â?¢ll 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 candlestick
Cause fire is the devilââ?¬â?¢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 satanââ?¬â?¢s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light 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 levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
And singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die.
"thisââ?¬â?¢ll 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 Iââ?¬â?¢d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldnââ?¬â?¢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, 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 levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
Singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die.
"thisââ?¬â?¢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 drinkinââ?¬â?¢ whiskey and rye
Singinââ?¬â?¢, "thisââ?¬â?¢ll be the day that I die."