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He was born and raised in Oklahoma his blood lines were white and Cherokee |
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His daddy owned a ranch outside of Clairmore |
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Where he learned to ride before the age of three |
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Now young Will Rogers was a cowboy |
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And he practiced with his rope most everyday |
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He'd ride around the barn or cross the prarie |
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And threw a rope around any thug that came his way. |
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Yes Will Rogers was a country boy one of Oklahoma's favorite sons |
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The nation clamied him as their pride and joy |
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But his roots were deep in Oklahoma sod |
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Before too long he had his fill of schooling |
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At eighteen years he got the urge to roam |
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A whole great big world wass out there waiting |
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So he saddled up and lit out on his own |
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Well he wrangled some ranches down in Texas |
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And he punched some cows out in New Mexico |
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Then he nearly starved to death in Argentina |
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In Africa he joined a wild west show |
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Yes Will Rogers... |
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From the early days of Vaudeville to the big time |
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Folks that knew him said that he'd never change |
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He was still the simple Oaklahoma cowboy |
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No matter what he always stayed the same |
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I suppose most of all he loved the people |
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Said, he never met a man he didn't like |
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When times were hard and folks were feeling sorry |
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A word from Will would always bring a smile |
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Yes Will Rogers... |
