Back home again in Indiana and it seems that I can see 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. 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.
