Fly Over States

A couple guys in first class on a flight From New York to Los Angeles Kinda making small talk, killing time Flirting with the flight attendants Thirty thousand feet above, could be Oklahoma Just a bunch of square cornfields and wheat farms Man, it all looks the same Miles and miles of backroads and highways Connecting little towns with funny names Who'd want to live down there in the middle of nowhere? They've never drove through Indiana Met the man who plowed that earth, planted that seed Busted his ass for you and me Or caught a harvest moon in Kansas They'd understand why God made those flyover states I bet that mile-long Santa Fe freight train engineer's seen it all Just like that flatbed cowboy stacking U.S. steel on a three-day haul Road and rails under their feet Yeah, that sounds like a first-class seat On the plains of Oklahoma With a windshield sunset in your eyes Like a watercolor painted sky You'd think Heaven's doors have opened You'll understand why God made those flyover states Take a ride across the badlands Feel that freedom on your face Breathe in all that open space And meet a girl from Amarillo You'll understand why God made You might even want to plant your stakes In those flyover states (yeah) Have you ever been through Indiana? On the plains of Oklahoma Take a ride