There's a land in Western Iowa, where the prairies meet the sky
And the setting sun paints the hilltops gold before it says goodbye.
Where the great Missouri River flows on its western shore
And the wild geese by the millions fly their age-old routes of yore!
That's the place I want to be, in these ancient hills of time
Where I'm at home with the yucca flower and the prairie dandelion!
So now!
Away, away then I must go!
Up into these hills where the prairies grow.
And nature speaks to let us know the wisdom in a flower!