A vast wide plain,
marked with waving wheat.
Sunsets of purest hues,
marking day's complete.

Hill of rolling flint,
dance with laughing flames.
Weather dances too,
never quite the same.

Some call us the heart,
with that this land agrees.
For freedom is the heart,
of this great country.

Free is the Earth,
where there's endless sky.
I see its sloping curve,
both continuous and wide.

No my friends,
you shall never find a truer place.
As Astra per Aspera,
and the brilliance of this great state.