I'm A Good Old Rebel

Oh, I'm a good old Rebel,
Now that's just what I am,
For this fair land of freedom
I do not give a damn!
I'm glad I fought against it,
I only wish we'd won,
And I don't want no pardon
For anything I done.

I hate the Constitution,
This great Republic, too,
I hate the Freedman's Bureau
In uniforms of blue,
I hate the nasty eagle
With all his brag and fuss,
But them lying, thieving Yankees,
I hate 'em worse and worse!

I hate the Yankee nation
And everything they do,
I hate the Declaration
Of Independence, too,
I hate the glorious Union,
'Tis dripping with our blood,
I hate that striped banner,
I fought it all I could.

I followed old Marse Robert
For four years, near about,
Got wounded in three places,
And I starved at Point Lookout;
I cotch the rheumatism
A'camping in the snow,
But I killed a mess of Yankees,
And I'd like to kill some more.

Three hundred thousand Yankees
Lie stiff in Southern dust!
We got three hundred thousand
Before they conquered us.
They died of Southern fever,
From Southern steel and shot,
I wish they was three million
Instead of what we got.

I can't take up my rifle
And fight 'em now no more,
But I ain't gonna love 'em,
Now that is certain sure;
And I don't ask your pardon
For what I was and am,
I won't be reconstructed,
And I don't give a damn!