OKLAHOMA HILLS Writers Woody Guthrie, Jack Guthrie
Many months have come and gone since I wandered from my home In those Oklahoma Hills where I was born Many a page of life has turned many a lesson I have learned Yet I feel like in those hills I still belong Way down yonder in the Indian nation I rode my pony on the reservation In the Oklahoma Hills where I was born A-way down yonder in the Indian nation a cowboy's life is my occupation In the Oklahoma Hills where I 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 In those Oklahoma Hills where I was born. Way down yonder in the Indian nation I rode my pony on the reservation In the Oklahoma Hills where I was born A-way down yonder in the Indian nation a cowboy's life is my occupation In the Oklahoma Hills where I born As I turn life a page to the land of the great Osage To those Oklahoma Hills where I was born Where the black oil rolls and flows and the snow-white cotton grows In those Oklahoma Hills where I was born. Way down yonder in the Indian nation I rode my pony on the reservation In the Oklahoma Hills where I was born A-way down yonder in the Indian nation a cowboy's life is my occupation In the Oklahoma Hills where I born.