(khronic)

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 ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singin' this'll be the day that I die, this'll be the day that I die.