Threads of steel across the land as far as eye can see,
With barbs that rip and tear the flesh of cattle, horse and me.
Not long ago this land was owned as far as you could see
By God and the government; and myself made three. We got along real peaceful, no fence to mark our lot;
We understood each other ... respect was ne'er forgot.
Then hooves and wagons charged across our still and peaceful land;
The buffalo were slaughtered ... it all got out of hand. The Indian lost his hunting ground, he had no place to hide;
Bereft of all his heritage, he fought hard for his pride.
Then came the scorge of settlers who settled on our lands,
And with bloodthirsty fences made their stern demands. Mile after rolling mile threads of steel were strung;
The death knell of our freedom was slowly being rung.
No more could deer or antelope claim the prairie as its right;
Here-on rider took his mount with caution in the night. Though 'tis sad to see all this, there's nothing we can do
But sit and think about the time the west belonged to you.
And now a way of life is gone, no freedom do I feel ...
The open ranges that I loved have died from threads of steel.