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 [bad word]  
I'm glad I fought against it 
I only wish we'd won. 
And I don't want no 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 caught the rheumatism 
camping in the snow. 
But I killed a chance of Yankees 
And I'd like to kill some more. 

Three hundred thousand Yankees 
Stiffen in Southern dust 
We got three hundred thousand 
Before 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 won't be [bad word] 
I'm better now than then 
And for that carpetbagger 
I do not give a [bad word] 
So I'm off for the frontier 
Soon as I can go 
I'll prepare a weapon 
And start for Mexico