(Traditional, arranged by Ry Cooder)

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 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
A 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 reconstructed
I'm better now than then
And for that carpetbagger
I do not give a damn
So I'm off for the frontier
Soon as I can go
I'll prepare a weapon
And start for Mexico