A couple guys in first class on a flight From new York to Los Angeles, Kinda making small talk killing time, Flirting with the flight attendants, 30, 000 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 unknown names, Who'd want to live down there in the middle of nowhere,
They've never drove through Indiana, Met the men 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 3-day haul Road and rails under their feet Yeah that sounds like a first class seat
On the plains of Oklahoma Where the windshield sunset in your eyes Like a watercolor painted sky Where like a water color painted sky
You'd 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 Why you'd want to plant your stakes In those fly over states
Have you ever been through Indiana On the plains of Oklahoma Take a ride
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