Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Music: Jerry Garcia
Recorded on: AOXOMOXOA
Only performance known:
April 26, 1969, at the Electric Theater in Chicago.

The Dead decided to experiment with the recording technology for this song rendering it if not practically unlistenable then certainly quite weird.
Garcia has been quoted as saying that the key to listening to the song is to get some nitrous oxide.

Waves of violet go crashing and laughing
Rainbow winged singing birds fly round the sun
Sunbells rain down in liquid profusion
Mermaids on porpoises draw up the dawn

What's become of the baby
This cold December morning

Songbirds frozen in their flight
Drifting to the earth
Remnants of forgotten dreams
Calling; answer comes there none
Go to sleep you child
Dream of never ending always

Panes of crystal
Eyes sparkle like waterfalls
Lighting the polished ice caverns of Khan
But where in the looking-glass fields of illusion
Wandered the child who was perfect dawn

What's become of the baby
This cold December morning

Racing, rhythms of the sun
All the world revolves
Captured in the eye of Odin
Allah, pray where are you now
All Mohammed's men blinded by the sparkling waters

Scheherazade gathering stories to tell
From primal gold fantasy petals that fall
But where is the child
Who played with the sun chimes
And chased the cloud sheep
To the regions of rhyme

Stranded cries the south wind
Lost in the regions of lead
Shackled by chains of illusion
Delusions of living and dead

There's also the line in Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, in which the Cheshire Cat asks Alice: "What became of the baby?" She replies that the baby turned into a pig and ran away.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.