A long, long time ago...
I can still remember when the American Dream made me smile.
And I knew I had a chance,
That all God’s people had a chance.
And maybe they'd be happy for awhile.
But liberal news made me shiver with every artilce they deliver,
Bad news on the doorstep; I couldn't take one more step.
I remember how I cried when I read about "that one’s" pride,
But something touched me deep inside, the day the Media died.

Say, bye-bye to your American Pie,
Drive your hybrid past the stations, cause the stations are dry.
Them bad oil boys stopped drillin’ to hide,
Singing, "This is the day capitalist die.
This is the day that capitalist die."

Did NBC write the book of O-love,
Does ABC have faith in Obama above,
If the Media tells you so?
Now do you believe in B H O?
Can media save your mortal soul?
And can you vote for this godless show?

Well, I know that they’re in love with him,
'Cause they say somethin’s crawling up their shin,
They both kicked off integrity,
And he brings them to one knee,
Joe's a lonely plumber trying to make a buck,
With a wonderful son and a pickup truck,
But he knew he was out of luck, the day the media died.

Joe started singing, bye bye to my American Pie,
Pushed my Chevy to the station, but the station was dry.
Them bad ole boys stopped us from drillin for oil,
Singing, "This will be the day oceans rise.
This will be the day oceans rise."

Now, for eight years, we've been doing okay,
'Cause Bush’s kept us safe to this day,
But that's not how it used to be,
When the jester sang for the Bill and queen,
With a scream he borrowed from Howard Dean,
And a media failed you and me,

Oh and while Bill was looking down,
The jester stole his horny frown,
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while Obama read his book on Marx,
The liberals danced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark, the day the media died.

They were singing, bye bye to your American Pie,
Drive your hybrids past the stations, cause the stations are dry.
Them bad oil boys stopped drillin for fuel,
Singing, "This is the day capitalist die.
This is the day capitalist die."

Albert Gore sat in a summer sweater.
While birds flew off for warmer weather,
Cloud nine high and falling fast.
Gore musts been smokin’ grass.
Then ACORN tried for a illegal pass,
With the voters on the sidelines in a cast.

The election time air was a foul perfume,
While Obama played a marching tune,
We all got up to vote,
Oh, but we never got the chance
`Cause the liberals tried to steal the field;
The liberal bandits refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed, the day the media died?

We started singing, bye bye to our American Pie,
Pushed our Chevies to the stations, but the stations was dry.
Them bad ole boys stopped us drillin for fuel,
Singing, "This will be the day that you die.
This will be the day that you 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; Joe be nimble, Joe be quick,
Joe the plumber lit our candlesticks,
'Cause lies are Obama’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 Obama’s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To burn our constitutional rite,
I saw Obama laughing with delight
The day the media died.

He was singing, bye bye to your American Pie,
Shove you Chevy to the junkyard, cause the junkyard was nigh.
My good ole boys stopped the drillin for fuel,
Singing, "This will be the day that you die.
This will be the day that you die."

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just frowned and turned away.
I went down to the deserted store
Where I'd heard the media years before,
But the man there said the media was no more.

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 people I despise the most:
Obama, Pelosi, and Harry Reid boast,
How they saved the shrinking coast,
The day the media died.

And they were singing....
Hi, hi to our Socialist Pie,
We take from the rich, till the rich are dry.
Them bad ole boys were making too much wealth,
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.
This will be the day that I die."

They were singing....
Hi, hi to our Socialist Pie,
We take from the rich, till the rich are dry.
Them bad ole boys were making too much wealth,
Singing, "This will be the day that I die.
This will be the day that I die."