| Bb | F | Gm7 | Cm | Eb | Gm | F | Bb | F | Gm7 | |
| A | long | long | time ago | I can still re | member how that | music used to make me | smile And | I knew | if I had | my chance |
| Cm | Eb | Gm | Eb | F | Gm | |
| that | I could make those | people dance and | maybe they'd be | happy for a | while. |
| Cm | Gm | Cm | Eb | Bb | Cm | Eb | F | |
| But February | made me shiver | With every paper | I'd deliver | Bad news | on the | doorstep I c | ouldn't take one | more step |
| Bb | F | Gm | Cm7 | F | Bb | F | Eb | F7 | Bb | Eb | Bb | F | |
| I | can't re | member if I | cried When I | read about his | widowed bride But | something | touched me deep inside The | day the | Music | Died | So |
| Chorus: |
| Bb | Eb | Bb | F | Bb | Eb | Bb | F |
| bye | bye Miss A | merican | Pie Drove my | chevy to the | levy But the | levy was | dry |
| Bb | Eb | Bb | F | |
| And them | good old | boys were drinking | whiskey and | rye |
| Gm | C7 | Gm | F7 | |
| Singin' | this'll be the day that I | die | this'll be the day that I | die. |
| Bb | Cm | Eb | Cm | Gm | F |
| Did you write the | book of love And do | you have faith in | God above? | If the Bible | tells you so. |
| Bb | F | Gm | Cm7 | Eb | Gm | C7 | F | |
| Do | you be | lieve in | Rock 'n Roll? Can | music save your | mortal soul? And | can you teach me | how to dance | real slow? |
| Gm | F | Gm | F | Eb | Bb | C7 | Eb | F7 | |
| Well, I | know that you're in | love with him 'cause I | saw you dancin' | in the gym You | both kicked | off your | shoes Man, I | dig those rythmny | blues |
| Bb | F | Gm | Cm | Eb | |
| I was a | lonely | teenage | broncin' buck With a | pink carnation and a | pickup truck. |
| Bb | F | Gm | Eb | F7 | Bb | Eb | |
| But | I knew | I was | out of luck The | day the | music | died | I started singin' ... |
| Bb | Cm | Eb | Cm | Gm | F | Bb | F | Gm |
| Now for ten years we've been | on our own And | moss grows fat on a | rollin' stone | But that's not how it | used to be When the | jester | sang for the | King and Queen |
| Cm7 | Eb | Gm | C7 | F | Gm | F | Gm | F | |
| 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 |
| Eb | Bb | C7 | Eb | F7 | Bb | F | Gm | Cm | Eb | |
| The | courtroom | was ad | journed No | verdict was re | turned And while | Lennon | read a | book of Marx The | court kept practice | in the park |
| Bb | F | Gm | Eb | F7 | Bb | Eb | |
| And | we sang | dirges | in the dark The | day the | Music | Died. | We were singing... |
| Bb | Cm | Cm | Eb | Cm | Gm | F | Bb | F | Gm |
| Helter-Skelter in a | summer | swelter The | Byrds flew off with a | fallout shelter | Eight Miles High and | falling fast It | landed | foul out | on the grass |
| Cm7 | Eb | Gm | C7 | F | Gm | F | Gm | F | |
| The | players tried | for a forward pass But the | jester's | on the sidelines | in a cast Now the | half-time air was | sweet perfume While the | sargeants played a | marching tune |
| Eb | Bb | C7 | Eb | F7 | Bb | F | Gm | Cm | Eb |
| We all | got up to | dance But we | never got | the chance 'cause the | players | tried to | take the field The | marching band re | fused to yield |
| Bb | F | Gm | Eb | F7 | Bb | Eb | Bb |
| Do you | recall | what was reveiled the | day the | Music | Died? | We started singing... |
| Bb | Cm | Eb | Cm | Gm | F | Bb |
| 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 |
| Gm | Cm7 | Eb | Gm | C7 | F | Gm | F | Gm | F |
| 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 |
| Eb | Bb | C7 | Eb | F7 | Bb | F | Gm | Cm | Eb |
| No angel | born in | hell Could | break that Satan's | spell And as the | flames climbed | high in | to the night To | light the sacri | fical rite |
| Bb | F | Gm | Eb | F7 | Bb | Eb | Bb | |
| I saw | Satan | laughing | with delight The | day the | Music | Died | He was singing... |
| Bb | Cm | Eb | Cm | Gm | F | Bb | F | |
| 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 |
| Gm | Cm7 | Gm | C7 | F | Gm | F | Gm | F | |
| 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 |
| Eb | Bb | C7 | Eb | F7 | Bb | F | Gm | Cm | Eb |
| But not a | word was | spoken The | Church bells all were | broken And | three men I | admire most The | Father, | Son and the | Holy Ghost |
| Bb | F | Gm | Eb | F7 | Bb | Eb | Bb | |
| They | caught the | last train | for the coast The | Day the | Music | Died. | And they were singing... |
| They were singing... |