Scenery! Well, jest speaking plainly, I don’t see no scenery here:
Nothin’ but the mount’in ranges rarin’ up so ’tarnal high
Thet a buddy kint look nowheres ’cept the middle o’ th’ sky.
Mount’ins, everlastin’ mount’ins, hills ’n’ woods ’n’ rocks ’n’ snow,
Where th’ scenery is they’re braggin’ on I’m th’ one as wants t’ know.
Let ’em stand in Lincoln county jest aback our cowyard fence,
An’ if they don’t say there’s scenery they hain’t got a mite o’ sense;
Why yuh kin look fur miles around yuh an’ see nothin’ but th’ flat
Level prairie in th’ sunshine kivered in its grassy mat.
That is scenery—yuh kin look there jest as fur as yuh kin see