Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Steve Young
Stars out in the morning
And the still rustle of corn
What a good place to be born
Clouds over the prairie
Till the wind blows them away
At the still start of the day
Hey, my Oklahoma
Are you still awaiting for me
With your gold plain waving free