(w) Al Dubin (m) Victor Herbert (P) Tommy Dorsey Orchestra / Frank Sinatra. No. 1 Chart Record
Summer, you old Indian Summer,
You’re the tear that comes after June-time’s laughter.
You see so many dreams that don’t come true,
Dreams we fashioned when Summertime was new.
You are here to watch over some heart that is broken
By a word that somebody left unspoken.
You’re the ghost of a romance in June going astray,
Fading too soon, that’s why I say,
“Farewell to you, Indian Summer.”