I don't own Miss American Pie or Cirque Du Freak. If I did, I'd be relatively rich.
If you no likey Vancha, don't read.
Vancha was drunk. Darren knew it instantly. Why? Because he was singing about Alexandria yet again.
"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."
The
worst part was the fact that Vancha was very out of tune.
"But
february made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver.
Bad news
on the doorstep;
I couldn't take one more step."
Alexandria
walked right up behind him and watched with as much amusement as
Larten and Darren were.
"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."
"Does
he know that he's not even singing the right notes?" She asked,
wincing as he hit a high note… or at least tried to.
"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? "
Darren
turned toward his mentor. "You want to play another round of
Spoons?"
"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
shall when Prince Vancha ends his… interesting song choice."
"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."
Alexandria
rolled her eyes and laughed as he suddenly held a note and
accidentally squeaked.
"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."
She
grinned and joined the last chorus.
"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."
Please review and read… this is only my second fic.