You met a girl who sang the blues, and you asked her for some happy news? but she just smiled and turned away. I went down the the sacred story, where I'd heard the music, year before. But the man there, said the music, wouldn't playyy. 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 singin, bye bye miss american pie. Drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was dry. Them good old bois were drinking whiskey and rye, singin this'll be the day that I die.... this'll be the day that I die. And they were singin bye bye miss american pie drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was dry. them good ol bois were drinkin whiskey and rye, singing this'll be the day that i dieeee.
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