| I cut through the Rockies like some unholy blade
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| The icy depths of the Pacific I have bade
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| Forever I wander, forever I stray
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| The rustle of wheat fields starts callin' my name
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| Callin' my name
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| Let me die in the country that I love the most
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| I’m a plain-to-see plainsman, and this I will boast
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| A heart that lies far from the East or West Coast
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| This plain-to-see plainsman is longin' for home
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| Longin' for home
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| Well the North-folk are dandy, they don’t mind the cold
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| The South has filled up both my belly and soul
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| I know when I’m gray and I know when I’m old
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| These bones will cry out for the place they were born
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| Place they were born
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| Let me die in the country that I love the most
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| I’m a plain-to-see plainsman, and this I will boast
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| A heart that lies far from the East or West Coast
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| This plain-to-see plainsman is longin' for home
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| Longin' for home
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| I’ve met beautiful women, a pleasure to see
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| Road-bitten bikers and barefoot hippies
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| Junkies and saints on my travels I greet
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| But far too few are homesick young plainsmen like me
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| Plainsmen like me
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| Let me die in the country that I love the most
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| I’m a plain-to-see plainsman, and this I will boast
|
| A heart that lies far from the East or West Coast
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| This plain-to-see plainsman is longin' for home
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| Longin' for home |