Rustling of the leaves used to be my lullaby,
In the sunny South when I was a tot so high,
And now that I have grown
Cradle me where Southern skies can watch me with a million eyes,
Cover me with heaven's blue and let me dream a dream or two,
I'm breezing along, along with the breeze,
I'm hearing a song, a song through the trees,
That pine melody caressing the shore familiar to me, I've heard it before,
That's Southland, don't I feel it in my soul,
And don't I know I've reached my goal,