Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Loudon Wainwright III
Take me home to the place where I first saw the light
To the sweet sunny south, take me home
Where the mockingbirds sang me to sleep every night
Oh, why was I tempted to roam?
Oh, I think with regret of the dear home I left
And the warm hearts that sheltered me then
Of the wife and dear ones of whom I'm bereft
And I sigh for the old place again
Take me home to the place where the orange trees grow
To my cot in the evergreen shade
Where the flowers on the river's green margins once bestowed
All their sweetness on the banks where we played
The path to our cottage they say it has grown green
And the place is quite lonely around
And I know that the smiles and the forms I have seen
Now lie in the cold mossy ground
But yet, I'll return to the place of my birth
Where my children used to play at the door
Where they pulled the white blossoms that garnished the earth
Which will echo their footsteps no more
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep
And their mother lies buried nearby
O'er the graves of my loved ones I long there to weep
And among them to rest when I die
Sweet Sunny South was produced by Dick Connette.