@migu music@

have you heard about a country where the rivers run free,

that's a place where i think you ought to go

where the corn stands high, tall as the sky,

on the great plains of old nebrasky–o.

in school i read of men who died by the gun,

but not of those who died by the hoe.

the land has drunk the rains of many a farmer's blood

now forgotten and buried long ago.

where are the hands that plowed fields without sleep

hands that saved a dying calf without rest

where are the feet that walked down them hot dusty trails

on their way to seek their fortunes going west.

and where are the fathers who died in the dust

and mothers who died hungry in the snow

and where are the kids that watched the banks plow their houses down

those are the things i guess my teaches never knowed.

you tell me drought hurt only corn and not men

you smile and say hard times have gone away

i guess i should listen to my city politician

who keeps telling me these are better days.

is there anybody left to walk a muddy mile

is courage a word that's only said

is it true them dusty days are days that never really were

but are only tales in books to be read.

have you heard about a country where the rivers run free,

that's a place where i think you ought to go

where the corn stands high, tall as the sky,

on the great plains of old nebrasky-o