|
|
|
I still recall the tears I cried
|
|
The day they claim the music died
|
|
Down on a sleeping field of corn
|
|
One bleak Midwestern winter morn
|
|
|
|
But time is kind and heals all wounds
|
|
When
left behind are starry tunes
|
|
They lift our spirits off the floor
|
|
And shine their light forevermore
|
|
|
|
Now I won't say the "Pie" man lied
|
|
The guy who sang "the music died"
|
|
But that's not how I feel inside
|
|
For me the music never died
|
|
No that's not how I feel inside
|
|
For me the music never died
|
|
|
|
I’ve logged no mileage in his shoes
|
|
He’s got a right to sing the blues
|
|
But from my heart this view I'll give
|
|
The music just began to live
|
|
|
|
Though years have faded since they passed
|
|
Their timeless songs have held on fast
|
|
Their embers still ignite the flame
|
|
Their inspiration will remain
|
|
|
|
Now I won't say the "Pie" man lied
|
|
The guy who sang "the music died"
|
|
But that's not how I feel inside
|
|
For me the music never died
|
|
No that's not how I feel inside
|
|
For me the music never died
|
|
|
|
Two good ol’ boys from Texas and one from L A’s Valley
|
|
Big Bopper… Ritchie Valens and the late great Buddy Holly
|
|
Their fateful flight that frozen night was bound for Minnesota
|
|
When Heaven stole their souls to fill its accidental quota
|
|
|
|
No I won't say the "Pie" man lied
|
|
The guy who sang "the music died"
|
|
But that's not how I feel inside
|
|
For me the music never died
|
|
No that's not how I feel inside
|
|
For me the music never died
|
|
|