Maybe we'll make Texas by the morning
Light the bayou with our taillights in the night
Eight hundred miles to El Paso from the state line
And we never have the money for the flight
I'm in the back seat sleepy from the travel
Played our hearts out all night long in New Orleans
I'm dirty from the diesel fuel, drinking coffee black
When the first breath of Texas comes in clean
And there's something about the southland in the springtime
Where the waters flow with confidence and reason
Though I miss her when I'm gone, it won't ever be too long
Till I'm home again to spend my favorite season
When god made me born a yankee he was teasing
There's no place like home and none more pleasing than the southland
in the springtime
In Georgia, nights are softer than a whisper