A Kentuckian

The mountains they are our neighbors, The creeks and rivers they are our labors, We hunt with a bow and sometimes with a gun, That is how we were raised, being a Kentuckian. In summer the grass is blue and the sun is gold, In the winter the ponds freezes over and the wind is cold, We work in the snow and also in the sun, That is how we were raised, being a Kentuckian. We live in the cities and also in the country, We work in the mills and on the farms which are pretty, We are not happy or satisfied until our work is done, That is how we were raised, being a Kentuckian. Horse-racing and basketball that is our legacy, In sports when our home teams win we all are happy, Pitching horseshoes and fishing we also see as fun, As that is how we were raised, being a Kentuckian. The wind blows through the grass and the goldenrod, While Angels and GOD watches and theirs heads they nod, Then with the birth of our daughters and also our sons, They too will be raised as us, Kentuckians. United we will stand and divided we will fall, If Kentucky ever needs us all they need is to call, We are prepared to fight or help, never will we run, As we were born and raised, a Kentuckian. Randy L. McClave