Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
Michael Martin Murphey
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
The Red Man was pressed from this part of the west
It's not likely he'll ever return
To the banks of Red River, where seldom, if ever
His flickering campfires still burn
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 light from the glittering stars
Have I stood there amazed and asked, as I gazed
If their glory exceeds that of ours
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
Oh, give me a land where the bright diamond sand
Flows leisurely down the stream
Where the graceful white swan goes gliding along
Like a maid in a heavenly dream
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