Wait for her for hours at home
Got the call: she suffered from psycho-somatic sudden death syndrome.
If only I could find the secret source of the Missouri River on Opposite Day,
I could cross over to the other side and tell my baby I miss her.

Up up and away to where my baby went
Up over to find a spot that's heaven sent (literally)
Up up and away to where my baby went
Go shake my stick at any tributary bent
Here I go

Army corps of Engineers
Gave me a canoe the key to the locks and a warm six-pack of beers.
The lower gasconade didn't seem to keep any secrets from me

(Middle Milk the big dry
Lower Milk little muddy
Big Porcupine lower tongue
Keg weeping water cache
La Poudre Monona-Harrison ditch
Blackbird soldier
Lower Laramie
Upper lodge pole
Little powder ruby
Upper Republican
Lower gasconade
Middle big blue)

Belfield ND, on the upper heart though the spot I had in mind wouldn't be quite so windy for a start (or maybe it would)
I stared in the waters of the little Milk for two hours straight but I never saw her reflection even once.

Up up and away to where my baby went
Up over to find a spot that's heaven sent (literally)
Up up and away to where my baby went
Go shake my stick at any tributary bent
Here I go

Keg keeping water; Monona Harrison Ditch
My supplies were running low, and I couldn't decide which
Lack of success on the Big Porcupine had pricked at my self-esteem

I resolved to turn for home
Maybe I'll go back and suffer from psycho-somatic sudden death syndrome.
Did the middle big blue break my heart,
or did she,
or did I do it to myself?