Chorus
Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

How often at night, when the heavens are bright
With the light from the glittering stars
I've stood there amazed, and asked, as I gazed,
If their glory exceeds that of ours.

Chorus

The air is so pure, and the zephyrs so free
And the breezes so balmy and light
I would not exchange my home on the range
For all the cities so bright.