Back home again now, 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 through the fields I used to roam
When the moon is shining brightly on the wabash, I dream about my Indiana home
The new mown hay sends all its fragrance through the fields I used to roam
When the moon is shining brightly on the wabash, I miss my Indiana home