(1930) [Home On the Range Unissued] 92 years ago! The Text was originally written about homesteading and not cowboying in 1876, by Dr. Brewster Higley.

Oh, gimme a home, where the buffalos roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

The air is so pure, the zephyr so free,
The breezes so balmy and light.
That I Would not exchange my home on the range,
For all the city so bright.

Home, home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

The red man was pressed from this part of the West,
He's likely no more to return.
To the banks of the Red River where seldom if ever,
Their flickering camp fires burn.

How often that night when the heavens are bright,
With the light from the glittering stars.
Have I stood there amazed, enhanced as I gazed,
That their glory exceeds that of ours.

Home, home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Oh, I love these wild flowers and the dear land of
ours,

The curlew I love to hear scream.

And I love the white hawk and the antelope flocks,

That graze on the mountain top green.

Give me a land where the bright diamonds' sands,
Flow leisurely down to the stream.
Where the graceful white swan goes gliding along,
Like a maid in the heavenly dream.

Home, home on the range,
Where the dear and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.