Many a month has come and gone,
since I wandered from my home,
in those Oklahoma hills where I was born.
Many a page my life has turned,
many a lesson I have learned,
and I feel like in those hills where I belong.
'Way down yonder on the Indian Nation,
ridin' my pony on the reservation,
in the Oklahoma hills where I was born.
'Way down yonder on the Indian Nation,
a cowboy's life is my occupation,
In those Oklahoma hills where I was born.
But as I sit here today,
many miles I am away
from the place I rode my pony through the draw.
Where the oak and blackjack trees,
kiss the playful prairie breeze,
and I feel like in those hills where I was born.
Now as I turn life a page
to the land of the great Osage,
in those Oklahoma hills where I was born.
Where the black oil rolls and flows
and the snow-white cotton grows,
and I feel like in those hills where I belong.