Harry Chapin - The Shortest Story

I am born today, the sun burns its promise in my eyes;
Mama strikes me and i draw a breath and cry.
Above me a cloud softly tumbles through the sky;
I am glad to be alive.

It is me seventh day, i taste the hunger and i cry;
My brother and sister cling to mama's side.
She squeezes her breast, but it has nothing to provide;
Someone weeps, i fall asleep.

It is twenty days today, mama does not hold me anymore;
I open my mouth but i am too weak to cry.
Above me a bird slowly crawls across the sky;
Why is there nothing now to do but die?