The dew is hanging diamonds on the clover, The moon is list'n'ing to the nightingale.
And while we're lost in dreams, The world around us seems like a Lou'siana Fairy Tale.
The breeze is softly singing [bad word] the willows, As hand in hand we stroll along the trail.
And love is at its height, enchanting us tonight, Like a Lou'siana Fairy Tale.
Is it real, this fascination? Are my arms holding you fast?
Are we here, on a plantation, or can this be heaven at last?
Keep dreaming with your head upon my shoulder, And don't awake until the stars grow pale.
The world is at our feet, the picture [bad word]  Like a Lou'siana Fairy Tale.