Buddy

Hopin' and flyin' high Still somethin' was amiss, Just you know why ... It had to end like this Not fade away a shining star With three million records sold, Yet, silent fell his guitar ... And, glasses rest infold A sound never to be heard Soon after that final show, Boy, give us a clue, a word Maybe one day we'll know What happened that dark night Over a quiet field of corn, Lost in a flurry of white ... Then found early the next morn Ever altered by what he gave Things change and time flies, Rock n' roll, rant and rave And still the music never dies.