Don McLean
American singer-songwriter most famous for his 1971 songs "American Pie" and "Vincent".
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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 woudn'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.
Starry starry night,
Paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer's day with eyes that know the darkness in my soul…
I feel like a spinning top or a Dreidel
The spinning don't stop when you leave the cradle
You just slow down
Round and around this world you go
Spinning through the lives of the people you know
We all slow down.
No days you can borrow, no time you can buy.
No trust in tomorrow. It's a lie.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen —
They did not know how,
Perhaps they'll listen now.
And if she asks you why,
You can tell her that I told you
That I'm tired of castles in the air.
I've got a dream I want the world to share,
And castle walls just lead me to despair.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died.
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 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.
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left in sight, on that starry starry night
You took your life as lovers often do,
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.
As you can imagine, over the years I have been asked many times to discuss and explain my song "American Pie" I have never discussed the lyrics, but have admitted to the Holly reference in the opening stanzas. You will find many interpretations of my lyrics but none of them by me. … Sorry to leave you all on your own like this but long ago I realized that songwriters should make their statements and move on, maintaining a dignified silence.
Every thread of creation is held in position
By still other strands of things living.
In an earthly tapestry hung from the skyline
Of smouldering cities so gray and so vulgar,
As not to be satisfied with their own negativity
But needing to touch all the living as well.
Wonderful baby, nothin' to fear.
Love whom you will, but doubt what you hear.
They'll whisper sweet things to make untrue.
So be good to yourself, that's all you can do.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They're not listening still...
Perhaps they never will...
Faces come and faces go in circular rotation.
But something yearns within to grow beyond infatuation.
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