A couple guys in first class on a flight From New York to Los Angeles Kinda making small talk killin' time Flirting with the flight attendants Thirty thousand feet above, could be Oklahoma
Just a bunch of square cornfields and wheat farms Man, it all looks the same Miles and miles of back roads and highways Connecting little towns with funny names Who'd want to live down there, in the middle of nowhere
They've never drove through Indiana Met the man who plowed that earth Planted that seed, busted his ass for you and me Or caught a harvest moon in Kansas They'd understand why God made Those fly over states
I bet that mile long Santa Fe Freight train engineer's seen it all Just like that flatbed cowboy Stacking US Steel on a three day haul Roads and rails under their feet Yeah, that sounds like a first class seat
On the plains of Oklahoma With a windshield sunset in your eyes Like a watercolored painted sky You'll think heavens doors have opened You'll understand why God made Those fly over states
Take a ride across the badlands Feel that freedom on your face Breathe in all that open space Meet a girl from Amarillo You'll understand why God made You might even wanna plant your stakes In those fly over states
Have you ever been through Indiana On the plains of Oklahoma Take a rideTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
