| G | D | Em7 | |
| A | long, | long | time ago |
| Am | C |
| I can still re | member how that |
| Em | D | |
| M | usic used to make me | smile |
| G | D | Em7 | |
| And | I know | if I | had my chance |
| Am | C | |
| That | I could make those | people dance and |
| Em | C | D |
| Maybe they’d be | happy for a | while |
| Em | Am | |
| But | February | made me shiver |
| Em | Am | |
| Wwith | every paper | I’d deliver |
| C | G | Am |
| Bad news | on the | doorstep |
| C | D | |
| I | couldn’t take one more | step |
| G | D | Em | |
| I | can’t remem | ber if I | cried |
| Am7 | D | |
| When I | read about his | widowed bride |
| G | D | Em |
| Something | touched me | deep inside |
| C | D7 | G | C | G | |
| The | day the | music | died |
| G | C | G | D | |
| So | bye, | bye Miss | American | Pie |
| G | C | G | D | |
| Drove my | Chevy to the | levy but the | levy was | dry |
| G | C | G | D | |
| And | good old | boys were drinkin’ | whiskey and | rye |
| Em | A7 | |
| Singin’ | this’ll be the day that I | die |
| Em | D7 |
| This’ll be the day that I | die |
| G | Am |
| Did you write the | book of love? |
| C | Am | |
| And do | you have faith in | god above |
| Em | D |
| If the bible | tells you so? |
| G | D | Em |
| Do you | believe in | rock and roll |
| Am7 | C | |
| Can | music save your | mortal soul |
| Em | A7 | D | |
| And can y | ou teach me | how to dance | real slow? |
| Em | D | |
| Well I | know that you’re in | love with him |
| Em | D | |
| ‘Cause I | saw you dancin’ | in the gym |
| C | G | A7 | |
| You | both kicked | off your | shoes |
| C | D7 | |
| Man I | dig those rhythm and | blues |
| G | D | Em | |
| I was a | lonely | teenage | broncin’ buck |
| Am | C | |
| With a | pink carnation and a | pickup truck |
| G | D | Em | |
| But | I knew | I was | out of luck |
| C | D7 | G | C | G | |
| The | day the | music | die | d, | I started singin’ |
| G | C | G | D | |
| So | bye, | bye Miss | American | Pie |
| G | C | G | D | |
| Drove my | Chevy to the | levy but the | levy was | dry |
| G | C | G | D | |
| And | good old | boys were drinkin’ | whiskey and | rye |
| Em | A7 | |
| Singin’ | this’ll be the day that I | die |
| Em | D7 |
| This’ll be the day that I | die |
| G | Am | |
| Now for t | en years we’ve been | on our own |
| C | Am | Em | |
| And mo | ss grows fat on a ro | lling stone |
| D | |
| But that’s not how it u | sed to be |
| G | D | Em | |
| When the j | ester s | ang for the ki | ng and queen |
| Am7 | C | |
| In a | coat he borrowed fr | om James Dean |
| Em | A7 | D | |
| In a v | oice that came from you | and me |
| Em | D | |
| And w | hile the king was lo | oking down |
| Em | D | |
| The | jester stole his th | orny crown |
| C | G | A7 | |
| The c | ourtroom | was adjourn | ed |
| C | D7 | |
| No | verdict was r | eturned |
| G | D | Em | |
| And while | Lenin rea | d a b | ook on Marx |
| Am | C | |
| The | quartet practiced | in the park |
| G | D | Em | |
| And | we sang d | irges i | n the dark |
| C | D7 | G | |
| The | day the mu | sic die | d |
| C | G |
| We | were singin’ |
| G | C | G | D | |
| So | bye, | bye Miss | American | Pie |
| G | C | G | D | |
| Drove my | Chevy to the | levy but the | levy was | dry |
| G | C | G | D | |
| And | good old | boys were drinkin’ | whiskey and | rye |
| Em | A7 | |
| Singin’ | this’ll be the day that I | die |
| Em | D7 |
| This’ll be the day that I | die |
| G | Am |
| Helter skelter in a | summer swelter |
| C | Am |
| The birds flew off with | a fallout shelter |
| Em | D |
| Eight miles high and | fallin’ fast |
| G | D | Em | |
| It lan | ded | foul o | n the grass |
| Am7 | C | |
| The pl | ayers tried for a f | orward pass |
| Em | A7 | D |
| With the jester on the sideline | s in a | cast |
| Em | D | |
| Now the ha | lftime air was s | weet perfume |
| Em | D | |
| While | sergeants played a m | arching tune |
| C | G | A7 |
| We all got | up to dan | ce |
| C | D7 | |
| But | we never got the ch | ance |
| G | D | Em | |
| ‘Cause the p | layers | tried to t | ake the field |
| Am | C | |
| The | marching band re | fused to yield |
| G | D | Em | |
| Do y | ou re | call what w | as the feel |
| C | D7 | G | |
| The | day the m | usic died | ? |
| C | G | |
| W | e s | tarted singin’ |
| G | C | G | D | |
| So | bye, | bye Miss | American | Pie |
| G | C | G | D | |
| Drove my | Chevy to the | levy but the | levy was | dry |
| G | C | G | D | |
| And | good old | boys were drinkin’ | whiskey and | rye |
| Em | A7 | |
| Singin’ | this’ll be the day that I | die |
| Em | D7 |
| This’ll be the day that I | die |
| G | Am | |
| And t | here we were all | in one place |
| C | Am | |
| A ge | neration | lost in space |
| Em | D |
| With no time left to | start again |
| G | D | Em | |
| So come on J | ack be ni | mble, | Jack be quick |
| Am7 | C | |
| J | ack Flash sat on a c | andle |
| Em | A7 | D | |
| Stick, | ’cause fire is the devil’s only | friend |
| Em | D | |
| And a | s I watched him o | n the stage |
| Em | D | |
| My h | ands were clenched in f | ists of rage |
| C | G | A7 | |
| No | angel b | orn in H | ell |
| C | D7 | |
| Could b | read that Satan’s | spell |
| G | D | Em | |
| And as the | flames climbed h | igh int | o the night |
| Am | C | |
| To | light the sacrif | icial rite |
| G | D | Em | |
| I saw S | atan l | aughing with | delight |
| C | D7 | G | C | |
| The d | ay the | music d | ied |
| G | |
| H | e was singin’ |
| G | C | G | D |
| Bye, | bye Miss | American | Pie |
| G | C | G | D | |
| Drove my | Chevy to the | levy but the | levy was | dry |
| G | C | G | D | |
| And | good old | boys were drinkin’ | whiskey and | rye |
| Em | A7 | |
| Singin’ | this’ll be the day that I | die |
| Em | D7 |
| This’ll be the day that I | die |
| G | D | Em | |
| I | met a | girl who | sang the blues |
| Am | C | |
| And I | asked her for some | happy news |
| Em | D | |
| But | she just smiled and turned a | way |
| G | D | Em | |
| I | went down | to the | sacred store |
| Am | C | |
| Where I’d | heard the music | years before |
| Em | C | |
| But the | man there said the | music |
| D | |
| Wouldn’t | play |
| Em | Am | |
| But | in the streets the | children screamed |
| Em | Am | |
| The | lovers cried and the | poets dreamed |
| C | G | Am | |
| But | not a | word was | spoken |
| C | D | |
| The | church bells all were | broken |
| G | D | Em | |
| And the | three men | I ad | mire most |
| Am7 | C | D7 | |
| The | Father, | Son, and the | Holy Ghost |
| G | D | Em |
| They caught the | last train | for the coast |
| Am7 | D7 | G | |
| The | day the | music | died |
| D7 |
| And they were singin’ |
| G | C | G | D |
| Bye, | bye Miss | American | Pie |
| G | C | G | D | |
| Drove my | Chevy to the | levy but the | levy was | dry |
| G | C | G | D | |
| And | good old | boys were drinkin’ | whiskey and | rye |
| C | D7 | G | C | G | |
| Singin’ | this’ll be the | day that I | die |