I’m A Good Old Rebel

Lyrics:

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 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 Freedman's Buro in uniforms of blue,

I hates the nasty eagle with all his brag and fuss,

The lying, thieving 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,

I hates their 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 P'int Lookout;

I cotched the "roomatism" a'campin' in the snow,

But I killed a chance o' Yankees, and I'd like to kill some mo'.

Three hundred thousand Yankees is stiff 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 a'gonna 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 do not care a damn!

Another Version Lyrics:

Oh, I'm a good old rebel,
Now thats just what I am,
And for this yankee nation,
I do no give a damn.
I'm glad I fought a ganner,
I only wish we won.
I aint 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, t'is dripping with our blood.
I hates the striped banner, and fit it all I could

I rode with Robert E. Lee,
For three years, thereabout.
Got wounded in four places,
And I starved at point lookout.
I catched the rheumatism
A campin' in the snow.
But I killed a chance of Yankees
And I'd like to kill some more.

3 hundred thousand Yankees
Is stiff in southern dust.
We got 3 hundred thousand
Before they conquered us
They died of Southern Fever
And southern steel and shot
I wish there were 3 million
Instead of what we got.

I can't pick up my musket
And fight 'um down no more
But I ain't gonna love 'um
Now that is certain sure
And I don't want no pardon
For what I was and am
I won't be reconstructed
And I do not give a damn

Oh, I'm a good old rebel,
Now that's just what I am,
And for this yankee nation,
I do no give a damn.

I'm glad I fought a ganner,
I only wish we won.
I aint asked any pardon for anything I've done.
I aint asked any pardon for anything I've done.

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