Key of C
Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain, and the wavin’ wheat can sure smell sweet when the wind comes right behind the rain.
Oklahoma! Every night my honey lamb and I sit alone and talk, and watch a hawk makin’ lazy circles in the sky.
We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand.
And when we say; Ee-ee-ow! A-yip-i-o-ee-ay! We’re only sayin’, you’re doin’ fine, Oklahoma! Oklahoma, O.K.!
