The Day My Baby Died

Well I left my home when i was twenty-two but i never did find the
 time or place it's just the kind of thing a man has to do with a
 scar on his soul like the one on his face & the emptiness inside.
 The day my baby died.
 It was a Sunday June mornin' & the sun broke
 high I had a smile on my face & I knew just why.
 Didn't hear no warning,
 didn't fear no storm cause i Knew for sure on
 that very morn' that girl was gonna be my bride.
 It was the day my baby died.
 In her long white gown & her bridal bouquet how i begged her not to
 plow the field that day although her
 beauty never stops she felt a duty to her crops.
 She jumped on the old John Deere & she drove away.
 She said " baby don't ya worry this'll only take a minute
 " But the wheel caught her gown & dragged her down in it.
 Imagine my surprise when i looked her in the eyes.
 Oh, my God i couldn't believe it the tractor cut her down to size.
 Oh, how the hands of fate they cracked
 her neath the wheels of her daddy's tractor.
 There was blood on the corn & brains on the hay (Hey hey) I ran
 fast as i could but all I found,
 was chunks of my sweety smeared all around.
 Big hunks of my darlin on the cold, cold ground...
 Oh, yeah...
 Hey this really happened to my Loretta.