Original lyrics to "American Pie":

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 bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, 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 music 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 dancin’ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singin’,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, 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 rollin’ stone,
But that’s 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 music 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 drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, 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 music 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 drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, 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 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

He was singing,
Bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, 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 heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’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.

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 drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, 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 drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, this’ll be the day that I die.

A long, long time ago
I can still remember
Lots of music that would make me smile

Now when-ever I have a chance
I love to make those lyrics dance
And maybe, make you happy, for a while

'Cause some "musicians" make me shiver
With every lyric they deliver
Bad sound on my eardrum
I couldn't stand their vile hum

I can't remember on what night
I web-surfed my way to Amiright
But I was filled with deep delight
The day
I found
This site

So that's why I'm an Amiright guy
Dove-in heavy with a bevy
Of lev-i-ty to write
And then Chucky G was thinkin' frisky and sly
Sayin' keep it clean - no sex - nod wink smile
Keep it clean - no sex - nod wink smile

Did you write a song of sex?
Or was it something much more complex?
If old Chucky tells you no
You find new words for cock and hole
Can subtly dance around the pole
And can you teach us what we need to know?

Well, I know that you’re in love with slang
With every crack and every wang
The phrases that you choose
Man, I dig those near-nasty clues

You’re a writer who knows how not to suck
With an inclination and a “What-the-duck?”
And I know you’ll never get stuck
When writing
For this site

So that's why you’re an Amiright guy
Dove-in heavy with a bevy
Of lev-i-ty to write
Funny songs are free, And I think that is why
We say keep ‘em coming for they have style
Keep ‘em coming for they have style

Now for two years I’ve been on this site
Reading songs both good and sheeshe
It's better than it used to be.
When new cool authors come along
Writing un-explicit song
Couched in risqué subtlety

Oh, and so I read another one
Groaning at a corny pun
So three fives were returned
The vote had been well-earned
And while some folks write their songs of sex
Intending ChuckyG to vex
Our lyric muscles now we flex
When writing
For this site

I, I am an Amright guy
I write parodies and submit them
Day or night
The people vote when they look at mine
Saying  "Im gonna give you three fives"
"Im gonna give you three fives"

Ive got lots of parodies of my own
The total of my votes have just grown
I submit  a lot of parodies
In September I submitted my first parody
To the tune of a song by Avril Lavigne
Now I have a total of 90

I checked out Weird Al , I loved his sound
I had written a few parodies before
Havent done one yet about Al Gore
Then in September I was looking
Around, for a place to put my parody
I remembered this one
Then I submitted my first one
"Outdated" about outdated food
Now I have many more parodies
This is how I found this site

I started thinking,
Sky-high as an AmIRight guy,
Make a bong song from thong song,
With the spoofed lyrics right,
Those old timers were spoofing the Stones all night,
And singin', thank you Chuck, for this old website.
Thank you Chuck, for this old website.

Oh, and there we were all in one post,
Collaberations coast to coast,
With great rhymes backed with great rhythm.
So come on: philbo, Rick, and Johnny D
Jack Wilson's slick with his rhyme,
Cause writing songs are my talent.

Oh, and as I looked for words to say,
To shoot in this grand parody,
Nobody really cares,
Who I bash down or spare.
They censored me throughout the whole night,
S.T.G. makes those wicked writes,
I saw people laughing with delight,
The day I found the site.

You join the site with songs to use
You meet the ones guy and pay your dues
And live to write another day
I admit that sometimes I'm sore
I want explanations for a four
But a voter... being honest... that's OK

So don't forget, you're not alone
Come write some more, call this place your home
This web-site Chuck has carried
And soon he's getting Married!!! (9/17, but you get the idea)
So through all the stuff I'll try to post
And all the subjects left to roast
Come raise a glass with me, A TOAST
Here's to the greatest site...