HOME ON THE RANGE

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,

Where the deer and the antelope play;

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

And the skies are not cloudy all day

Home, home on the range

Where the deer and the antelope play

Where seldom is heard a discouraging word

And the skies are not cloudy all day.

How often at night when the heavens are bright

With the lights from the glittering stars

Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed

If their glory exceeds that of ours.
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Oh, give me a land where the bright diamond sand

Flows leisurely down the stream;

There the graceful, white swan goes gliding along

Like a maid in a heavenly dream.
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Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free,

The breezes so balmy and light,

That I would not exchange my home on the range

For all of the cities so bright.
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Oh, I love those wild flowers in this dear land of ours,

The curlew I love to hear scream,

And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks

That graze on the mountain tops green.