Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song American Pie, artist - Countdown Singers.
Date of issue: 21.07.2013
Song language: English
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’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 |
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 drinking whiskey 'n 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? |
Do you believe in rock 'n' 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 levee, but the levee was dry |
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey 'n 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 rollin' 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, and 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 'n 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 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 |
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye |
Singing, «This'll be the day that I die |
«This'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 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 |
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 'n 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 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, son, and the holy ghost |
They caught the last train for the coast |
The day the music died |
And they were singing |
And there I stood alone and afraid |
I dropped to my knees and there I prayed |
And I promised him everything I could give |
If only he would make the music live |
And he promised it would live once more |
But this time one would equal four |
And in five years four had come to mourn |
And the music was reborn |
Bye-bye Miss American Pie |
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry |
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey 'n 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 'n rye |
Singing, «This'll be the day that I die» |