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