I hates the Constitution, this great Republic, too;
I hates the Freedmen’s Bureau, in uniforms blue.
I hates the nasty eagle, with all his brags and fuss;
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 their striped banner — I fit it all I could.
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 there were three million instead of what we got.
— Oh, I’m a Good Ol’ Rebel.