(Marcus Shutte)

Places I have been, cities I have seen,
With concrete canyons rising from the ground.
Miles and miles of asphalt trail,
Stretch across the land, stampeding metal ponies
Leaving smoke along the way.

Going back to Paniolo country,
Stars at night no city lights.
Paniolo country, my home on the range.

I made up my mind, won't waste any time
Going back to where the clouds ride high.
Take my word its pretty, not like the great big city
The winds still bring cool clear mountian air.

Going back to paniolo country
Rain drops fall, the grass grows tall
Paniolo country, my home on the range.

Places I have been, cities I have seen,
With concrete canyons rising from the ground.
Miles and miles of asphalt trail,
Stretch across a land, stampeding metal ponies
Leaving smoke along the way.

Going back to Paniolo country,
Stars at night no city lights.
Paniolo country, my home on the range.

Paniolo country, Rain drops fall, the grass grows tall
Paniolo country, my home on the range.

Paniolo country, my home on the range...