Oh I'm a Good Old Rebel

Oh, I’m a good old Rebel
Now that’s just what I am
For this Yankee nation
I do not give a damn
I’m glad I fought agin her
I only wish we’d won
I ain’t asked any pardon
For anything I’ve done
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 their striped banner
I fought it all I could
I rode with Robert E. Lee
For three years, thereabouts
Got wounded in four places
And starved at Point Lookout
I caughts the rheumatism
A-camping in the snow
But I killed a chance of Yankees
And I’d like to kill some mo'
Three hundred thousand Yankees
Lie 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 were three millions
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 certain sure;
I don’t want no pardon
For what I was and am
I won’t be reconstructed
And I do not give a damn