(Ken Fischer, 1970)

I can hear the rustle of the wheat fields
Blowing softly on the plain.
And the tall pines of your North land
Make me want to come back home to you again;
Where a little woodland stream so swiftly runs.

There's an understanding heart in every soul
That dwells upon your gentle land;
And the kind of hospitality that
Lets you help a neighbour when you can.
Where a man has room to see the setting sun - Saskatchewan.

There's a home-town waiting there for me
With friends I've been away from far too long;
And the yearning that I feel inside
Will never leave my mind 'till I am gone.
So I'll see you once again before I'm done - Saskatchewan.

I have traveled everywhere
From winding, ranging mountains to the sea;
And I've never found a home
That I will ever hear so fondly calling me.
Get set to welcome home a native son - Saskatchewan.

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