What would your life be like without music?

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and all who have gathered here today, I bid you the warmest of welcomes to this sacred space. It is with a heavy heart and a tale of fabled proportions that I stand before you, ready to share a story that spans generations, a story where music, that universal language of the soul, once soared to great heights, only to be silenced on a day etched into our collective memory.

Today, my dear congregation, we embark on a journey to a time long, long ago, a time when melodies danced through the air, bringing smiles to faces and joy to hearts. Our tale is a sardonic, comedic fairy tale, and it begins with those unforgettable words: “A long, long time ago, I can still remember.” So, sit back, open your hearts, and let the echoes of this fabled story envelop you as we remember the day the music died.

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a land not too far away, there lived a minstrel. This minstrel, my friends, had a mighty gift. He could strum his guitar and sing songs that made the whole village smile, and yes, even dance. People would gather from near and far to hear his tunes, for he had a magical way of lifting their spirits.

But alas, one fateful February, as he was delivering his songs like a newspaper boy tossing papers on doorsteps, bad news came knocking. It made him shiver in his boots. The music was gone, my dear congregation. It was as if the heavens themselves decided to mute the melodies that once brought joy to all.

Now, as the minstrel sang of his woes, he wondered if anyone would write the Book of Love to console him. He pondered if faith in God or rock ‘n’ roll could save his mortal soul. And he yearned to learn how to dance real slow, as slow as the passing days without his beloved tunes.

As he looked around, he saw young lovers dancing in the gym, and he couldn’t help but feel like a lonely teenage broncin’ buck, with nothing but a pink carnation and an empty pickup truck. Luck had abandoned him that day when the music died.

Years went by, my dear congregation, and the world changed. The jester who once sang for kings and queens had stolen their thorny crown. The courtroom was adjourned, and no verdict was returned. John Lennon read books on Marx, while a quartet practiced in the park, and dirges were sung in the dark.

In the midst of it all, there came a time when the players tried to take the field, but the marching band refused to yield. And do you recall what was revealed that day? The music was still dead.

Helter Skelter, the world grew chaotic, like a summer swelter. The birds flew off with a fallout shelter, and everything seemed to fall apart. The devil himself seemed to laugh with delight as the flames climbed high into the night, consuming all that once was.

But then, my friends, a glimmer of hope emerged. A girl who sang the blues, she held the promise of happy news. Yet, when he asked, she just smiled and turned away. The sacred store where the music once thrived had nothing to play.

In the streets, children screamed, lovers cried, and poets dreamed, but not a word was spoken. The church bells, once a beacon of hope, were broken. And even the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost caught the last train for the coast, leaving us with the echo of a song.

So, my dear congregation, let us remember the day the music died. Let us sing, “Bye-bye, Miss American Pie.” Let us recall the Chevy driven to The Levee, where it was dry. Those good old boys may have been drinkin’ whiskey in Rye, but we will never forget the day that the music died. Amen, and rock ‘n’ roll.

As our fabled tale draws to a close, I want to extend my deepest gratitude to each and every one of you for joining me on this musical journey through the ages. Your presence here today has made this experience all the more meaningful.

Before we part ways, I encourage you to share your thoughts, comments, and feedback. Your input is invaluable, for it guides our future stories and sermons. Let your voices be heard, just as music once echoed in our hearts.

May the melodies of this tale continue to resonate within you, reminding us all of the power of music and the enduring stories that shape our lives. Until we meet again, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and the sweet sound of music. Thank you, and may you carry the spirit of this story with you always.