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American Pie
(Michael Chalk Days of Future Past Mix)
Long, long time ago
I can still remember how the music
Used to make me smile
I knew that if I had my chance
I’d show the people how to dance
And maybe make me happy for a while
March has always made me shiver
Getting older makes my soul quiver
I hate that I’m getting old
I’m starting to feel the cold
I’ll always remember that I cried
When I heard of the wound from inside
Something touched me deep inside
The day I heard that Elvis died
So bye, bye best years of my life
From here on in
I’m on a search for a wife
To share my days
And mix me whisky and rye
Thinking "When is the old sod gonna die?
When is the old sod gonna die?"
I saw Matt write the book on love
I knew that Terrence came from God above
Because Michal told me so
I danced the nights away to sweet disco
I felt music claim my mortal soul
I tried to learn how to play music, but I was too slow
Well I know that I am not the best
It was proved by means of a simple test
I gave my heart to you
Now I’m here and singing the blues
I’m no longer teenaged, my bad luck
Those years have gone and that surely sucks
I know that I am out of luck
From here on in, the music dies
And now I’m singing
Bye, bye best years of my life
From here on in
I’m on a search for a wife
To share my days
And mix me whisky and rye
Thinking "When is the old sod gonna die?
When is the old sod gonna die?"
In all those years I was on my own
I tried to grow a heart of stone
That’s not how it’s supposed to be
I saw Clive do sums better than Carol V.
And Michael learn to play rugby
And heard Tom do mixes of Mousse T
Oh and now I come to look around
I know I’ve kept my feet on the ground
Though with women I’m always spurned
It’s always for Matt that they’ve yearned
And while Stefan notched his perfect marks
I poked my head out from the dark
And really started to make my mark
And now, the music’s died
So let’s all sing now
Bye, bye best years of my life
From here on in
I’m on a search for a wife
To share my days
And mix me whisky and rye
Thinking "When is the old sod gonna die?
When is the old sod gonna die?"
Disco Inferno on a summer’s day
There to cheer on Stewart’s birthday
Two tens old and ageing fast
But he saw his teens out with a blast
We all walked in on a queue skip pass
And waited hushed as though we were at Mass
And the dance floor air has it’s own perfume
Take it in while the DJ’s play a funky tune
We all get up to dance
We may never have another chance
We’ll climb aboard the heaving stage
I’ll dance away my aged rage
The songs mark one more turned page
That’s how the music dies
And we all sing along
Bye, bye best years of my life
From here on in
I’m on a search for a wife
To share my days
And mix me whisky and rye
Thinking "When is the old sod gonna die?
When is the old sod gonna die?"
And now I stand here in this place
And wonder if I’ve kept pace
I’ve no chance now to start again
Now I must be humble, keep my words slick
I read by the light from a candlestick
Because fire, is the element that’ll cleanse
And as I’m pushed past on the stage
My fists’ll clench in balls of rage
No angel born in hell
Could break my rage led spell
But a friends voice from off stage right
Stops the sacrificial rite
And I catch my own laugh of delight
And so, the music dies
So we start singing
Bye, bye best years of my life
From here on in
I’m on a search for a wife
To share my days
And mix me whisky and rye
Thinking "When is the old sod gonna die?
When is the old sod gonna die?"
You all know I sing the blues
You always bring me happy news
And so I smile and turn away
I go down to the sacred store
Where the music plays for evermore
The man there says the music always plays
And in the streets the children play
The lovers kiss and the poets say
"The music keeps on going,
There’s no harm in you knowing"
And the three who I admire the most
The Doc, the runner and the one with the most
They were battered from pillar to post
But their music never died
So please sing now
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
On your way out please put
One of my friends on the line
I need no wife,
Cos I hate whisky and rye
Singing, I have my friends, I’ll never die
I have my friends I’ll never die
And I am singing
Bye, bye Miss American Pie
On your way out please put
One of my friends on the line
I need no wife,
Cos I hate whisky and rye
Singing, I have my friends, I’ll never die
© DJ Majick Productions 3.00
With thanks to everyone who has to put up with me
Special thanks to Don McLean
Extra special thanks to Matt for getting me going