Oh, I'm a good old rebel,
now that's just what I am
For this fair land of freedom,
I'm glad I fit against it,
And I don't want no pardon
I hates the Constitution,
I hates the Freedmen's Bureau
with all his brags and fuss
The lying, thieving Yankees,
I hate the Declaration of Independence, too
I hate the glorious Union
just dripping with our blood
I hate their striped banner,
I followed old Master Robert
Got wounded in three places
Yankees are stiff in Southern dust
They died of Southern fever
and Southern steel and shot
I wish there was three million
I can't take up my musket
and fight them now no more
But I ain't a -gonna love them
And I don't want no pardon
Oh, I'm a good ol' rebel,
now that's just what I am
Oh, I'm a good ol' rebel,
now that's just what I am