Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain.
Where the waving wheat can sure smell sweet
when the wind comes right behind the rain.
Oklahoma, every night my honey-lamb and I
sit along and talk, and watch a hawk making lazy
circles in the sky.
We know we belong to the land
And the land we belong to is grand
And when we say Ay yippy yi ki yea.
We're only saying You're doin' fine Oklahoma
Oklahoma your ok.
(repeat second verse)
...l-a-h-o-m-a. Oklahoma
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