By the way, here are the lyrics, which I found at an interesting Johnny Cash Web site:

THE MAN WHO COULDN'T CRY
by Loudon Wainwright III

There once was a man, and he couldn't cry.
He hadn't cried for years and for years.
Napalmed babies and movie love stories
For instance could not produce tears.

As a child he had cried as all children will,
Then at some point his tear ducts all ran dry.
He grew to be a man. It all hit the fan.
Things got bad, but he couldn't cry.

His dog got ran over, his wife up and left him
And after that, he got sacked from his job.
Lost his arm in the war, was laughed at by a whore,
Ah, but still not a sniffle or sob.

Wel, his novel was refused, and his movie was panned,
And his big Broadway show was a flop.
He got sent off to jail; you guessed it, no bail,
Oh, but still not a dribble or drop.

In jail he was beaten, bullied and buggered
And made to make license plates.
Water and bread was all he was fed,
But not once did a tear stain his face.

Doctors were called in, scientists, too.
Theologians were last and practically least.
They all agreed sure enough; this was sure no cream puff,
Ah, but in fact, an insensitive beast.

He was removed from jail and placed in a place
For the insensitive and the insane.
He made a lot of friends and he played a lot of chess
And he cried every time it would rain.

Once it rained forty days and it rained forty nights
And he cried and he cried and he cried and he cried.
On the forty-first day, he passed away.
He just dehydrated and died.

Well, he went up to heaven, located his dog.
After that, he rejoined his arm.
Down below, all the critics, they took it all back.
Cancer robbed the whore of her charm.

His ex-wife died of stretch marks. His ex-employer went broke.
The theologians were finally found out.
Right down to the ground, that old jail house burned down,
And the earth suffered perpetual drought.

Da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da,
Da-da-da, da-da, dum-dum-dum.