| He was born and raised in Oklahoma his blood lines were white and Cherokee
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| His daddy owned a ranch outside of Clairmore
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| Where he learned to ride before the age of three
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| Now young Will Rogers was a cowboy
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| And he practiced with his rope most everyday
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| He’d ride around the barn or cross the prarie
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| And threw a rope around any thug that came his way
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| Yes Will Rogers was a country boy one of Oklahoma’s favorite sons
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| The nation clamied him as their pride and joy
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| But his roots were deep in Oklahoma sod
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| Before too long he had his fill of schooling
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| At eighteen years he got the urge to roam
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| A whole great big world wass out there waiting
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| So he saddled up and lit out on his own
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| Well he wrangled some ranches down in Texas
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| And he punched some cows out in New Mexico
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| Then he nearly starved to death in Argentina
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| In Africa he joined a wild west show
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| Yes Will Rogers…
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| From the early days of Vaudeville to the big time
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| Folks that knew him said that he’d never change
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| He was still the simple Oaklahoma cowboy
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| No matter what he always stayed the same
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| I suppose most of all he loved the people
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| Said, he never met a man he didn’t like
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| When times were hard and folks were feeling sorry
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| A word from Will would always bring a smile
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| Yes Will Rogers… |