People change, families grow There are hands I am holding Back when home was a place And I thought that growing up was a phase
There are wrinkles on my hands When I started making plans
Iowa, I don't know how to leave you Don't know how to tell you goodbye Iowa, I am a field after harvest
My soul is weathered but green When a storm passes over the roots are unseen And the hope that I needed was already there
Iowa, I don't know how to leave you Don't know how to tell you goodbye Iowa, I am a field after harvest
There are wrinkles on my hands When I started making plans
Iowa, I don't know how to leave you Don't know how to tell you goodbye Iowa, I am a field after harvest