I have always been a wand'rer
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Over land and sea
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Yet a moonbeam on the water
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Casts a spell o'er me
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A vision fair I see
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Again I seem to be
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Back home again in Indiana,
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And it seems that I can see
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The gleaming candlelight, still shining bright,
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Through the sycamores for me.
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The new-mown hay sends all its fragrance
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From the fields I used to roam.
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When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash,
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Then I long for my Indiana home.
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Fancy paints on mem'ry's canvas
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Scenes that we hold dear
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We recall them in days after
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Clearly they appear
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And often times I see
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A scene that's dear to me
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Back home again in Indiana,
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And it seems that I can see
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The gleaming candlelight, still shining bright,
|
Through the sycamores for me.
|
The new-mown hay sends all its fragrance
|
From the fields I used to roam.
|
When I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash,
|
Then I long for my Indiana home.
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Indiana
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| The Jeff Healey Band |
