Lionstraw Books

I was born a dairyman’s daughter,

Holsteins’ needs before my own.

Garden, field, and milking parlor–

That’s where my faith and hope and love and strength were grown.

 

CHORUS:

So carry my bones back to my homeland.

Bury my heart beneath the hills that watched me grow.

Let the cradle of my valley be my final place to rest,

Where the Flathead water’s cold as Sheephead snow. 

I left home for education,

Left again to follow love.

We built our life all across the nation,

But when I dreamed I saw Montana’s sky above.

CHORUS

If my turn comes before yours does, Dear,

I know I’ll weep to say good-bye and bid adieu

To plans we made, but I’ll be safe here

In the next best place to breathing next to you.

CHORUS

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