O 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 done.
I hates the Constitution, This great republic too, I hates the Freedmans' Buro, In uniforms of blue. I hates the nasty eagle, With all his braggs and fuss, The lyin' thievin' Yankees, I hates 'em wuss and wuss.
I hates the Yankees nation And everything they do, I hates the Declaration, Of Independence, too. I hates the glorious Union- 'Tis dripping with our blood- I hates their striped banner, I fit it all I could.
I followed old mas' Robert For four year near about, Got wounded in three places And starved at Point Lookout I got the rheumatism A campin' in the snow, But I killed a chance o'Yankees I'd like to kill some mo'.
Three hundred thousand Yankees Is still in Southern dust, We got three hundred thousand Before they conquered us. They died of Southern fever And Southern steel and shot, I wish they was three million Instead of what we got.
I can't take up my musket And fight 'em now no more, But I ain't going to love 'em, Now that is sarten sure, And I don't want no pardon For what I was and am. I won't be reconstructed, And I don't care a damn.