149/365 - May 29th, 2009

Friday, May 29th, 2009 - The day the D70 died...

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that photos 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 May 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 D70 died.

So bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock n roll,
Can photos save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you're in love with him
`cause I saw you dancing in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage bronc'n buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the D70 died.

I started singing,
Bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.

Now for ten years we've been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone,
But thats not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from James dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the D70 died.

We were singing,
Bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the D70 died?

We started singing,
Bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devils 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 satans spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the D70 died

He was singing,
Bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
And singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.

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 seen the photos years before,
But the man there said the photos wouldn't show.

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 D70 died.

And they were singing,
Bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.
This'll be the day that I die.

They were singing,
Bye-bye, miss American pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing, this'll be the day that I die.

Shutter Count: 44667

RIP - You will be missed!!!