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Crying prairie winds along with rain,
They made this land in what it is today
Steepwalled canyons, sharp lunar like spires
The sun goes down, this land is on fire
Two centuries ago the people came
Bout this land their judgement was the same
French Canadian trappers, Indians too,
They called it "badlands" to go through
Chorus:
Bless the men who judged this land as bad
No one knows what if else was said
Would this land be gone, just cities spread
if not judged: "bad"....
The upper grass holds deer and antelope
Here`s still a place to find the buffalo
Prairy dogs, you`ll find and bighorn sheep
They run and fight, they rest and sleep
Repeat Chorus:
Coyotes on a hill can sing along
Their tune; an everlasting prairie song
Eagles flying higher in the sky
Watch this land, won`t ever die
Repeat Chorus:
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