Hollywood don’t do what it once could do,
I used to wake up and write me a song before noon.
So I packed my dusty bags one night,
grabbed an old guitar, and I caught a red-eye flight.
In search of a dream underneath the Tennessee moon,
I fell in love to an old Hank Williams tune.
Makes me wonder: is it the same moon Hank played under?
Touched down and she stole my heart right away.
Began to think for the first time I might stay.
And when I heard that lone-some whistle moan,
knew I’d finally found my way back home.
In search of a cream underneath the Tennessee moon,
I fell in love to an old Hank Williams tune.
And I wonder: is it the same moon Hank stood under
when he sang about jambalaya and bein’ lonesome enough to cry?
And I can hear the echoes in the sounds of his guitar.
And words still paint a picture in my heart.
Yeah, in search of a dream underneath the Tennessee moon,
I fell in love to an old Hank Williams tune.
I was in search of a dream underneath the Tennessee moon…