Yes, Owl City wrote a 6-minute tribute to Rapid City's Dinosaur Park

As someone who grew up in Rapid City, I have vivid memories of my first trip up Skyline Drive: a bendy, steep road that leads to Dinosaur Park, one of Rapid City's most well-known and beloved tourist attractions.

To me and my siblings, the park's doughy, simplistic sculptures of various dinosaurs were immediately seen as a fantastical playground that could come alive at any moment.

It's that's sense of playfulness and youthful wonder that inspired Owl City, the one-man band behind the bouncy 2009 hit "Fireflies," to write a 6-minute and 32-second song featuring the concrete beasts.

The song's eponymous subject is name-dropped multiple times during the sleepy ode, but if there's any ambiguity about whether this song takes place in the Mount Rushmore State, the first line of the track dispels such doubts: "Welcome to South Dakota."

The song, entitled "Dinosaur Park," is upfront about its sentiment toward its subject: "Boy, I love Rapid City, And that hilltop of beasts," swoons Adam Young, Owl City's singer and songwriter.

"Dinosaur Park" is the longest song off of "Coco Moon," the Minnesota-based band's seventh album, released Friday.

"We will be jammin [sic] to this all season long! What a special song about a truly special place in our city," city marketing agency Visit Rapid City wrote on Owl City's YouTube page under the track.

Its unusual duration prompted surprise, confusion and even some digital derision from Twitter users, who did not expect to see a whole song written about Rapid City's unassuming icon, and by Owl City, no less.

But the sweetly uplifting tune ― and a likely obvious consideration for Visit Rapid City's marketing going forward ― inspired some to post long-past and recent photos of visits to the green stone dinos.

"Fireflies," Owl City's long-lived mega-hit, rose to No. 1 on Billboard's Hot 100 list when it was released in 2009 and topped charts internationally. Young has said in interviews that a sleep disorder aided him in crafting the song.

"Dinosaur Park" is a notably more innocent, patient piece, with a stronger sense of place than its more well-known ancestor, owing to its direct references to South Dakota. It's arguably lighter on beeping electro-pop, a little closer to a Disney-esque bop.

It's realistically curious about its setting, with questions and daydreams any imaginative kid would have, like "What do dinosaurs talk about/When they're alone?" and "Do they look down on the city lights/Even though they don't bat an eye? And then at night, when the moon is bright/Do they come alive? I have a sneaking suspicion inside."

It's a shift away from "Fireflies," which delved more into fantastic moments, like "If 10 million fireflies/Lit up the world as I fell asleep," and a step toward a musically-rendered "Night at the Museum" set in the City of Presidents ― though, the sculptures' depiction of dinosaurs might lack realism themselves.

But for long-time fans, Young's optimistic style is maintained in Coco Moon's song eight, which seeks to transport you to a wondrous place all the same. Only, Dinosaur Park is real, it's free and it opens on April 21.

People interested in streaming, downloading or buying "Dinosaur Park" or the 11-track "Coco Moon" can visit Owl City's Official Bandcamp or stream the song on Spotify.

This article originally appeared on Sioux Falls Argus Leader: Owl City wrote a whole 6-minute song about Rapid City's Dinosaur Park