I knew a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away.
Then I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd heard the music play before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play.
And in the streets the children screamed
The old men laughed and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the 3 men I admired most, The Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
They took the last bus for the coast
The day the music died.
They were singing, "Bye, bye, Miss American Pie."
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry.
And good ol'boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing "This'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die."