Red Fern

Well

Towards the border of the northeast corner of Oklahoma lives a Native girl

Spends her days in Delaware County but she wants to see the ocean for the pearls

Never had two nickels to rub together, all she knew was how to work

So she's singin' for some change in a guitar case to pull herself out of the dirt

She sings, "I love this place, but it ain't my home

I belong where people hear my songs and sing along

And I hate to leave it, but I've got to go

I was meant for more than missin' cowboys where the red fern grows"

Pretty soon those dreams that she'd been dreamin' didn't seem so out of reach

So she switched from change and checks to playin' shows, word out on the street

Met a drummer in a red dirt band in Tahlequah who swore he'd make her shine

So she ran off to the city, left the boy she loved and her family behind

She sings, "I love this place, but it ain't my home

I belong where people hear my songs and sing along

And I hate to leave it, but I've got to go

I was meant for more than missin' cowboys where the red fern grows"

Days turn into months and all the months turn into years

Streets turn to stadiums and silence turns to cheers

But them Oklahoma hills, they still call out her name

If you listen close, you can hear her sing

She sings, "I love this place, but it ain't my home

I belong where people hear my songs and sing along

And I hate to leave it, but I've got to go

I was meant for more than missin' cowboys where the red fern grows"

Towards the border of the northeast corner of Oklahoma lives a Native girl