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

filename[ UNRECON

RG

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