Many A Month Has Come And Gone

Since I Wandered From My Home

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born.

Many A Page Of Life Has Turned,

Many A Lesson I Have Learned,

While I Feel Like In Those Hills I Still Belong.



But As I Sit Here Today

Many Miles I Am Away

From The Place I Rode My Pony Through The Draw

While The Oaken Black Jack Trees

Kiss The Purple Prairie Breeze

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born.



Way Down Yonder In The Indian Nation

Ride My Pony On The Reservation

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born,

Way Down Yonder In The Indian Nation

A Cowboy's Life Was My Occupation

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born.



Now As I Turn Life A Page

To The Land Of The Great Old Sage

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born

While The Black Oil Rolls And Flows

And The Snow White Cotton Grows

In Those Oklahoma Hills I Still Belong.



Way Down Yonder In The Indian Nation

Ride My Pony On The Reservation

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born,

Way Down Yonder In The Indian Nation

A Cowboy's Life Was My Occupation

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born.



Way Down Yonder In The Indian Nation

Ride My Pony On The Reservation

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born,

Way Down Yonder In The Indian Nation

A Cowboy's Life Was My Occupation

In Those Oklahoma Hills Where I Was Born.