Cheyenne, Wyoming The night that the baby was born The mud from the backyard Now stained our living room floor "We'll need 24 hours," The policeman explained, "These sort of things happen; He's probably ok" So I sat in your room But you couldn't see me at all Now one turned to three; And on the fifth day a newsman came by They plastered your picture All over the news, Channel Nine Now mother found god And father went bad Neither could help it It's all that they had So I sat in your room But brother, you couldn't see me at all The call came quite early From a man about 30 miles south And driving to find you, I felt both of my lungs giving out They said that they found you With your arms in a T When I finally looked You were staring at me You had so much to tell But I couldn't hear you at all No I couldn't hear you at all