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A long, long time ago, I can still remember |
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How that music used to make me smile |
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And I knew if I had my chance |
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That I could make those people dance |
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And maybe they'd be happy for a while |
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But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver |
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Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step |
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I can't remember if I cried, when I read about his widowed bride |
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But something touched me deep inside the day the music died |
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So bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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Singing this'll be the day that I die |
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This'll be the day that I die |
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Did you write the book of love |
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And do you have faith in God above |
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If the Bible tells you so? |
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Now do you believe in rock and roll? |
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Can music save your mortal soul? |
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And can you teach me how to dance real slow? |
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Well, I know that you're in love with him |
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'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym |
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You both kicked off your shoes |
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Man, I dig those rhythm and blues |
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I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck |
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With a pink carnation and a pickup truck |
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But I knew I was out of luck |
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The day the music died |
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I started singing bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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And singing this'll be the day that I die |
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This'll be the day that I die |
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Now, for ten years we've been on our own |
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And moss grows fat on a rolling stone |
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But that's not how it used to be |
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When the jester sang for the king and queen |
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In a coat he borrowed from James Dean |
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And a voice that came from you and me |
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Oh, and while the king was looking down |
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The jester stole his thorny crown |
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The courtroom was adjourned |
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No verdict was returned |
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And while Lenin read a book on Marx |
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The quartet practiced in the park |
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And we sang 'Dirges In The Dark' |
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The day the music died |
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We were singing bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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And singing this'll be the day that I die |
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This'll be the day that I die |
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Helter skelter in a summer swelter |
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The birds flew off with a fallout shelter |
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Eight miles high and falling fast |
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Landed foul on the grass |
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The players tried for a forward pass |
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With the jester on the sidelines in a cast |
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Now the half time air was sweet perfume |
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While sergeants played a marching tune |
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We all got up to dance |
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Oh, but we never got the chance |
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'Cause the players tried to take the field |
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The marching band refused to yield |
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Do you recall what was revealed |
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The day the music died? |
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We started singing bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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And singing this'll be the day that I die |
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This'll be the day that I die |
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Oh, and there we were all in one place |
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A generation lost in space |
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With no time left to start again |
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So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick |
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Jack Flash sat on a candlestick |
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'Cause fire is the devil's only friend |
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Oh, and as I watched him on the stage |
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My hands were clenched in fists of rage |
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No angel born in hell |
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Could break that Satan's spell |
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And as the flames climbed high into the night |
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To light the sacrificial rite |
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I saw Satan laughing with delight |
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The day the music died |
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He was singing bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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And singing this'll be the day that I die |
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This'll be the day that I die |
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I met a girl who sang the blues |
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And I asked her for some happy news |
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But she just smiled and turned away |
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I went down to the sacred store |
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Where I'd heard the music years before |
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But the man there said the music wouldn't play |
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And in the streets the children screamed |
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The lovers cried and the poets dreamed |
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But not a word was spoken |
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The church bells all were broken |
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And the three men I admire most |
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The Father, Son and the Holy Ghost |
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They caught the last train for the coast |
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The day the music died |
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And they were singing bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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Singing this'll be the day that I die |
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This'll be the day that I die |
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They were singing, bye, bye Miss American Pie |
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Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry |
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Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye |
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Singing this'll be the day that I die |