The Unreconstructed Rebel

Oh, I'm a good old Rebel,
Now that's just what I am;
For this "fair land of Freedom"
I do not care a damn.
 I'm glad I fit against it-
 I only wish we'd won.
 And I don't want no pardon
 For anything I've done.

I hates the Constitution,
This great Republic too;
I hates the Freedmen's Buro,
In uniforms of blue.
I hates the nasty eagle,
With all his brag and fuss;
But the lyin', thievin' Yankees
I hates' em wuss and wuss.
I hates the Yankee nation,
And everything they do;
I hates the Declaration
Of Independence too.
I hates the glorious Union,
'Tis dripping with our blood;
And I hates the striped banner-
I fit it all I could.

I followed old Marse Robert
For four years, near about.
Got wounded in three places,
And starved at Point Lookout.
I cotch the roomatism
A-campin'in the snow,
But I killed a chance of Yankees-
And I'd like to kill some mo'.

Three hundred thousand Yankees
Is stiff Southern dust;
We got three hundred thousand
Befo' they conquered us.
They died of Southern fever
And Southern steel and shot;
And I wish it was three million
Instead of what we got.
                   .
I can't take up my musket
And fight' em now no mo',
But I ain't a-goin'to love' em,
Now that is sartin sho';
And I don't want no pardon
For what I was and am;
And I won't be reconstructed,
And I do not give a damn.

@America @war @Civil
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