American Pie

The Song That Inspired Me

"A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew that if I had the 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 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; 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 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 believe in God above if the Bible tells you so? 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 dancing in the gym; you both kicked off your shoes. Man, I dig those rhythmic 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 levee but the levee was dry, and them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing 'this'll be the day that I die,' this'll be the day that I die.

"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 for the king and queen in a coat he borrowed from James Dean and a voice that came from you and me, oh while the king was looking down, the jester stole his thorny crown; the courtroom was adjourned; no verdict was returned. And while Lennon 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 levee but the levee was dry, and them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye singing, 'this'll be the day that I die,' this'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 halftime air was sweet perfume while sergeants played a marching tune; we all got up to dance 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, and them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing 'this'll be the day that I die,' this'll be the day that I die. 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 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 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, and them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing 'this'll be the day that I die,' this'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 that sacred store where I'd heard the music played 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, Son, and Holy Ghost 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 drinking whiskey and rye, singing 'this'll be the day that I die,' this'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, and them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing 'this'll be the day that I die.'"

-Don McLean