Wide open Spaces
I dream of wide open spaces.
Far away places
Where a man can be a man.
dream of lookin' out my window
Out where the grass grows
Where no concrete spoils the land.
What are we commin' to?
What are we gonna do?
When all the things that are good are gone.
Have we all forgotten the
Things that make life worth livin'?
Like Texas, family and home.
I think of all the times I spent
Sittin' under an oak tree and
Smellin' the fresh air lord and feelin' the breeze.
I think of all the people livin'
Always takin' never givin'
With no care for their brother man or his needs.
Now the hills hold the highways
Plains fill the skyways
Seems everything's been touched by mans progress.
Yea, progress is what they call it;
And that's what it is, I guess.
But, all and all, it seems to me just a big ole mess.
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