[{"id":20091216,"name":"Southland In The Springtime","trackName":"Southland In The Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Indigo Girls Singles","duration":259.892245,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland In The Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Indigo Girls Singles\n  duration_ms: 259892\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":25490757,"name":"Southland in the Springtime","trackName":"Southland in the Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Indigo Girls/Strange Fire/Nomads Indians Saints (3 of 3)","duration":259.926375,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland in the Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Indigo Girls/Strange Fire/Nomads Indians Saints (3 of 3)\n  duration_ms: 259926\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":8900640,"name":"Southland In the Springtime","trackName":"Southland In the Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads · Indians · Saints (Expanded Edition)","duration":259.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland In the Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Nomads · Indians · Saints (Expanded Edition)\n  duration_ms: 259000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":8900641,"name":"Southland in the Springtime","trackName":"Southland in the Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads - Indians - Saints","duration":259.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning\nLight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to El Paso from the state line\nAnd we never have the money for the flight\nI'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nWe played our hearts out all night long in New Orleans\nAnd dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nWhen the first breath of Texas comes in clean\nAnd there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\nWhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nThough I miss her when I'm gone\nIt won't ever be too long\n'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\nWhen God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\nThere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nThan the Southland in the springtime\nIn Georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nBeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nWith the farmland like a tapestry\nPassed down through generations\nAnd the peach trees stitched across the land\nThere'll be cider up near Helen off the roadside\nAnd boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nAnd the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nWith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nAnd there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\nWhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nThough I miss her when I'm gone\nIt won't ever be too long\n'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\nWhen God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\nThere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nThan the Southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16]Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning\n[00:21.14]Light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26]800 miles to El Paso from the state line\n[00:36.21]And we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26]I'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38]We played our hearts out all night long in New Orleans\n[00:57.36]And dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45]When the first breath of Texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43]And there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44]Where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50]Though I miss her when I'm gone\n[01:31.58]It won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54]'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69]When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63]There's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78]Than the Southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81]In Georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87]Beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96]With the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97]Passed down through generations\n[02:34.92]And the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05]There'll be cider up near Helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03]And boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12]And the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14]With a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10]And there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20]Where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21]Though I miss her when I'm gone\n[03:30.32]It won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33]'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39]When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48]There's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47]Than the Southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56]","lyricsfile":"version: \"1.0\"\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland in the Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  instrumental: false\n  album: Nomads - Indians - Saints\n  duration_ms: 259866\nlines:\n  - text: Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 15160\n    end_ms: 21140\n  - text: Light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 21140\n    end_ms: 28260\n  - text: 800 miles to El Paso from the state line\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 28260\n    end_ms: 36210\n  - text: And we never have the money for the flight\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 36210\n    end_ms: 43260\n  - text: I'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 43260\n    end_ms: 50380\n  - text: We played our hearts out all night long in New Orleans\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 50380\n    end_ms: 57360\n  - text: And dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 57360\n    end_ms: 65450\n  - text: When the first breath of Texas comes in clean\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 65450\n    end_ms: 72430\n  - text: And there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 72430\n    end_ms: 80440\n  - text: Where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 80440\n    end_ms: 87500\n  - text: Though I miss her when I'm gone\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 87500\n    end_ms: 91580\n  - text: It won't ever be too long\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 91580\n    end_ms: 95540\n  - text: \"'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\"\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 95540\n    end_ms: 102690\n  - text: When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 102690\n    end_ms: 109630\n  - text: There's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 109630\n    end_ms: 116780\n  - text: Than the Southland in the springtime\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 116780\n    end_ms: 131810\n  - text: In Georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 131810\n    end_ms: 139870\n  - text: Beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 139870\n    end_ms: 146960\n  - text: With the farmland like a tapestry\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 146960\n    end_ms: 151970\n  - text: Passed down through generations\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 151970\n    end_ms: 154920\n  - text: And the peach trees stitched across the land\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 154920\n    end_ms: 162050\n  - text: There'll be cider up near Helen off the roadside\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 162050\n    end_ms: 169030\n  - text: And boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 169030\n    end_ms: 177120\n  - text: And the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 177120\n    end_ms: 184140\n  - text: With a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 184140\n    end_ms: 192100\n  - text: And there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 192100\n    end_ms: 199200\n  - text: Where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 199200\n    end_ms: 206210\n  - text: Though I miss her when I'm gone\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 206210\n    end_ms: 210320\n  - text: It won't ever be too long\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 210320\n    end_ms: 214330\n  - text: \"'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\"\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 214330\n    end_ms: 220390\n  - text: When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 220390\n    end_ms: 228480\n  - text: There's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 228480\n    end_ms: 234470\n  - text: Than the Southland in the springtime\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 234470\n    end_ms: 256560\n  - text: \"\"\n    words: []\n    start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning\n  Light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to El Paso from the state line\n  And we never have the money for the flight\n  I'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  We played our hearts out all night long in New Orleans\n  And dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  When the first breath of Texas comes in clean\n  And there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\n  Where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  Though I miss her when I'm gone\n  It won't ever be too long\n  'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\n  There's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  Than the Southland in the springtime\n  In Georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  Beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  With the farmland like a tapestry\n  Passed down through generations\n  And the peach trees stitched across the land\n  There'll be cider up near Helen off the roadside\n  And boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  And the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  With a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  And there's something bout the Southland in the springtime\n  Where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  Though I miss her when I'm gone\n  It won't ever be too long\n  'Til I'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  When God made me born a Yankee he was teasin'\n  There's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  Than the Southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":31663993,"name":"Southland In The Springtime","trackName":"Southland In The Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads","duration":259.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland In The Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Nomads\n  duration_ms: 259000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":19568718,"name":"Southland in the Springtime","trackName":"Southland in the Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Assorted","duration":256.8988416,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland in the Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Assorted\n  duration_ms: 256899\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":24303909,"name":"Southland in the Springtime","trackName":"Southland in the Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads Indians Saints [Bonus Tracks]","duration":259.3436672,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland in the Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Nomads Indians Saints [Bonus Tracks]\n  duration_ms: 259344\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":33446265,"name":"Southland In The Springtime","trackName":"Southland In The Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads Indians Saints CD","duration":260.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland In The Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Nomads Indians Saints CD\n  duration_ms: 260000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":36152439,"name":"Southland In The Springtime","trackName":"Southland In The Springtime","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads · Indians · Saints","duration":259.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland In The Springtime\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Nomads · Indians · Saints\n  duration_ms: 259000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"},{"id":9351588,"name":"Southland In The Springtime (Album Version)","trackName":"Southland In The Springtime (Album Version)","artistName":"Indigo Girls","albumName":"Nomads · Indians · Saints (Expanded Edition)","duration":259.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"maybe we'll make texas by the morning\nlight the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n800 miles to el paso from the state line\nand we never have the money for the flight\ni'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\nwe played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\nand i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\nwhen the first breath of texas comes in clean\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime\n\nin georgia nights are softer than a whisper\nbeneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\nwith the farmland like a tapestry\npassed down through generations\nand the peach trees stitched across the land\nthere'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\nand boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\nand the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\nwith a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\nand there's something bout the southland in the springtime\nwhere the waters flow with confidence and reason\nthough i miss her when i'm gone\nit won't ever be too long\ntill i'm home again to spend my favorite season\nwhen god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\nthere's no place like home and none more pleasin'\nthan the southland in the springtime","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.16] maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n[00:21.14] light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n[00:28.26] 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n[00:36.21] and we never have the money for the flight\n[00:43.26] i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n[00:50.38] we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n[00:57.36] and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n[01:05.45] when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n[01:12.43] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[01:20.44] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[01:27.50] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[01:31.58] it won't ever be too long\n[01:35.54] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[01:42.69] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[01:49.63] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[01:56.78] than the southland in the springtime\n[02:11.81] in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n[02:19.87] beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n[02:26.96] with the farmland like a tapestry\n[02:31.97] passed down through generations\n[02:34.92] and the peach trees stitched across the land\n[02:42.05] there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n[02:49.03] and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n[02:57.12] and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n[03:04.14] with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n[03:12.10] and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n[03:19.20] where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n[03:26.21] though i miss her when i'm gone\n[03:30.32] it won't ever be too long\n[03:34.33] till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n[03:40.39] when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n[03:48.48] there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n[03:54.47] than the southland in the springtime\n[04:16.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Southland In The Springtime (Album Version)\n  artist: Indigo Girls\n  album: Nomads · Indians · Saints (Expanded Edition)\n  duration_ms: 259000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  start_ms: 15160\n  end_ms: 21140\n- text: light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  start_ms: 21140\n  end_ms: 28260\n- text: 800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  start_ms: 28260\n  end_ms: 36210\n- text: and we never have the money for the flight\n  start_ms: 36210\n  end_ms: 43260\n- text: i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  start_ms: 43260\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 57360\n- text: and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  start_ms: 57360\n  end_ms: 65450\n- text: when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  start_ms: 65450\n  end_ms: 72430\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 72430\n  end_ms: 80440\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 80440\n  end_ms: 87500\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 87500\n  end_ms: 91580\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 91580\n  end_ms: 95540\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 95540\n  end_ms: 102690\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 102690\n  end_ms: 109630\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 109630\n  end_ms: 116780\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 116780\n  end_ms: 131810\n- text: in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  start_ms: 131810\n  end_ms: 139870\n- text: beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  start_ms: 139870\n  end_ms: 146960\n- text: with the farmland like a tapestry\n  start_ms: 146960\n  end_ms: 151970\n- text: passed down through generations\n  start_ms: 151970\n  end_ms: 154920\n- text: and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  start_ms: 154920\n  end_ms: 162050\n- text: there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  start_ms: 162050\n  end_ms: 169030\n- text: and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  start_ms: 169030\n  end_ms: 177120\n- text: and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  start_ms: 177120\n  end_ms: 184140\n- text: with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  start_ms: 184140\n  end_ms: 192100\n- text: and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 192100\n  end_ms: 199200\n- text: where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  start_ms: 199200\n  end_ms: 206210\n- text: though i miss her when i'm gone\n  start_ms: 206210\n  end_ms: 210320\n- text: it won't ever be too long\n  start_ms: 210320\n  end_ms: 214330\n- text: till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  start_ms: 214330\n  end_ms: 220390\n- text: when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  start_ms: 220390\n  end_ms: 228480\n- text: there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  start_ms: 228480\n  end_ms: 234470\n- text: than the southland in the springtime\n  start_ms: 234470\n  end_ms: 256560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 256560\nplain: |-\n  maybe we'll make texas by the morning\n  light the bayou with our tail lights in the night\n  800 miles to el paso from the state line\n  and we never have the money for the flight\n  i'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel\n  we played our hearts out all night long in new orleans\n  and i'm dirty from the diesel fumes, drinking coffee black\n  when the first breath of texas comes in clean\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n\n  in georgia nights are softer than a whisper\n  beneath a quilt somebody's mother made by hand\n  with the farmland like a tapestry\n  passed down through generations\n  and the peach trees stitched across the land\n  there'll be cider up near helen off the roadside\n  and boiled peanuts in a bag to warm your fingers\n  and the smoke from the chimneys meets its maker in the sky\n  with a song that winter wrote whose melody lingers\n  and there's something bout the southland in the springtime\n  where the waters flow with confidence and reason\n  though i miss her when i'm gone\n  it won't ever be too long\n  till i'm home again to spend my favorite season\n  when god made me born a yankee he was teasin'\n  there's no place like home and none more pleasin'\n  than the southland in the springtime\n"}]