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.
Chorus: 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.
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.
The Indians were pressed from this part of the West,
They belong and they long to return
To the banks of Red River where seldom if ever
Their flickering campfires yet burn.*
How often at night when the heavens are bright
By the light of the glittering stars
Have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed
If there glory exceeds that of ours.
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*This verse has been revised in an effort to do Native Americans greater justice.
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