Indian summer, fresh mown grass
Girls in the attic looking on them
Indian summer, call me back
Someone tell me there is another way

Is it loud? Is it autumn that you're talking about?
Is it why? Is it lost on what I'm talking about?
Is it just that you can't find a way out
Find another way, teach me how to pray

Indian summer, through the year
On the medicine wheel, call me back
Trap me in between
Somewhere west, somewhere south
It seems these days anything west
Gets the blade, gets wasted

Is it right? Is it real what you're talking about?
Everything that I feel you're talking about
Sometimes I don't know what I'm hearing now
Is there another way?
There is another way, another way to pray

Girls, take your hands like you pray
All over the ground then back on your body
Girls, take your hands like you pray
Through the blades of grass, gently, gently, gently

There is another way, yes
Another way, another way to pray

Indian summer, fresh mown grass
Can you, Mister Bush, light the sage?
Can you, anyone that's listening, find a way
It is clear, it is clear
That we need another way, another way to pray

Do you feel, do you feel now what I’m talking about
Everywhere that I look no one's comin' out
Out with it, what it is what they're feelin' now
There is another way, another way to pray