Back home again in Indiana, And it seems that I can see The gleamin' candlelight, Still shinin' 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. Oh, I have always been a wanderer Over land and sea, Yet a moonbeam on the water Casts a spell o'er me; A vision fair I see, Again I long to be; Back home again in Indiana, And it seems that I can see The gleamin' candlelight, Still shinin' 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, Indiana home.