Home On The Range x

 6    6   7 -8  8
Oh, give me  a home

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where the buf-fa-lo roam,

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Where the deer and the an-te-lope play

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Where sel-dom is heard a dis-cour-a-ging word,

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And the skies are not cloud-y all day.

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Home, home on the range,

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Where the deer and the an-te-lope play.

   6   6   7  -8   8   7 -7   -6 -9  -9   -9
Where sel-dom is heard a dis-cour-a-ging word,

-9  -9    8   -8   7    -7  7 -8   7
And the skies are not cloud-y all day.





Where the air is so pure,
the zephyrs so free,
And the breezes 
so balmy and light.
Then I would not exchange
my home on the range
For all of your 
cities so bright.

The red man was pressed
from this part of the West,
And he's likely 
no more to return
To the banks of Red River,
where seldom, if ever
Their flickering campfires burn.

How often at night
when the heavens 
are bright,
With the light 
from the glitering stars,
dHere I stood there amazed,
and asked as I gazed,
If their glory exceeds 
that of ours.	

I love the wild flowers
in this dear land of ours,
And the curlew 
I love to hear scream.
I love the wild rocks
and the antelope flocks,
That graze on 
the mountaintops green.

Oh give me a land 
where the bright 
diamond sand,
Flows leisurely 
down the stream.
Where the graceful 
white swan
goes sliding along,
Like a maid 
in a heavenly dream.