- Joined
- Dec 13, 2011
- Messages
- 10,348
- Reaction score
- 2,426
- Location
- The anals of history
- Gender
- Male
- Political Leaning
- Progressive
I found this old song that was sung in the south after the Civil War. It reminds me that the more things change, the more things stay the same.
I know a lot of southerners have been brainwashed (or "reconstructed" as the song says) to the point where the old rebel spirit has turned into love of America. Maybe this election will remind folks that there is a cultural division between the north and the south.
The truth is like a seed, you can toss it in the dirt, stamp it in the ground, but it will always spring back up. A lot of people died in that war fighting for the rights of the states to self-govern, without the federal government intervening. I hope that spirit is never forgotten.
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 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 Bureau,
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 Mars' Robert
For four year, near about,
Got wounded in three places,
And starved at Pint 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 in 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 millions
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 this is sartin sho';
And I don't want no pardon
For what I was and am,
And I won't be reconstructed,
And I don't care a damn.
I know a lot of southerners have been brainwashed (or "reconstructed" as the song says) to the point where the old rebel spirit has turned into love of America. Maybe this election will remind folks that there is a cultural division between the north and the south.
The truth is like a seed, you can toss it in the dirt, stamp it in the ground, but it will always spring back up. A lot of people died in that war fighting for the rights of the states to self-govern, without the federal government intervening. I hope that spirit is never forgotten.
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 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 Bureau,
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 Mars' Robert
For four year, near about,
Got wounded in three places,
And starved at Pint 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 in 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 millions
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 this is sartin sho';
And I don't want no pardon
For what I was and am,
And I won't be reconstructed,
And I don't care a damn.