Fly Over States

A couple guys in first class on a flight
 From New York to Los Angeles
 Kinda making small talk, killing time
 Flirting with the flight attendants
 Thirty thousand feet above, could be Oklahoma
 Just a bunch of square cornfields and wheat farms
 Man, it all looks the same
 Miles and miles of backroads and highways
 Connecting little towns with funny names
 Who'd want to live down there in the middle of nowhere?
 They've never drove through Indiana
 Met the man who plowed that earth, planted that seed
 Busted his ass for you and me
 Or caught a harvest moon in Kansas
 They'd understand why God made those flyover states
 I bet that mile-long Santa Fe freight train engineer's seen it all
 Just like that flatbed cowboy stacking U.S. steel on a three-day haul
 Road and rails under their feet
 Yeah, that sounds like a first-class seat
 On the plains of Oklahoma
 With a windshield sunset in your eyes
 Like a watercolor painted sky
 You'd think Heaven's doors have opened
 You'll understand why God made those flyover states
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 Take a ride across the badlands
 Feel that freedom on your face
 Breathe in all that open space
 And meet a girl from Amarillo
 You'll understand why God made
 You might even want to plant your stakes
 In those flyover states (yeah)
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 Have you ever been through Indiana?
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 On the plains of Oklahoma
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 Take a ride