Oh, I'm a good old rebel, that's what I am; And for this land of freedom, I don't care a damn, I'm glad I fought agin her, I only wish we'd won, And I don't axe any pardon for anything I've done.
I served with old Bob Lee, three years about, Got wounded in four places and starved at Point Lookout; I caught the rheumatism a-campin' in the snow, But I killed a chance of Yankees and wish I'd killed some mo'.
For I'm a good old rebel, etc.
I hate the constitooshin, this great republic too; I hate the mouty eagle, an' the uniform so blue; I hate their glorious banner, an' all their flags an' fuss, Those lyin', thievin' Yankees, I hate 'em wuss an' wuss.
For I'm a good old rebel, etc.
I won't be re-constructed! I'm better now than them; And for a carpet-bagger, I don't give a damn; So I'm off for the frontier, soon as I can go, I'll prepare me a weapon and start for Mexico.
For I'm a good old rebel, etc.