Song of the Last Liberal

The Last Liberal labored down The Road, braced against the nuclear winter, his boy at his side.

In his gun were bullets made of soap; his empty cart held only hope, to reach the warmth before he died.

Softly, he sang:

A long, long time ago. . .
I can still remember
How those ideals could make me smile.
And I knew that if we had a chance
Folks would dance a progressive dance
And, maybe, they'd be happy for a while.

The year 2000 made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep.
I couldn't take one more step.

I well remember how we cried
When we read about his widowed bride.
And something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye bye Miss Liberal Pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys was 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?
Did you keep your baseball glove?
Can you hear the trumpet blow?
Do you believe in human rights,
Your liberties and peaceful nights,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well I know that we all loved him,
And thought his torch would never dim,
And saw the hole in his hand-made shoes.
Man, we dug those ryhthm and blues.

You might have been a broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pick-up truck.
Still you knew you was out of luck
The day the music died.

So we started singin',
"bye bye Miss Liberal Pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys was drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
"This'll be the day that I die."

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While Democrats 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 right-wing band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
"bye bye Miss Liberal Pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys was drinkin' whiskey and rye
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 jobless screamed,
The hungry cried, and the schemers schemed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most,
Dennis, Al and Teddy's ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

And they were singin',
"bye bye Miss Liberal Pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys was drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin', "this'll be the day that I die.
"This'll be the day that I die."

--With thanks and apologies to Don McLean.