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Oklahoma Oklahoma, Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain, & the waving wheat can sure smells sweet, When the wind comes right behind the rain!
O o k la ho ma, ev'ry night my honey lamb and I; sit alone and talk and watch a hawk makin' lazy circles in the sky; We know we belong to the land; And the land we be long to is grand! And when we say: Yeow! a yip i o ee ay! We're on ly sayin' "Your doin' fine Oklahoma! Ok la ho ma! O. K." O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A; Oklahoma, OK! Yeow! |
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