Rebel

I am a good old rebel
That's exactly what I am
And for your fair land of freedom
I just don't give a damn

Three hundred thousand Yankees
Lying dead on that Southern dust
Yeah, we got three hundred thousand
They never got next to us

Yo, and they died of the Southern fever
Of old Southern steel and shotguns
And I wish we'd have got three million
Shit, more than what we got

But I can't take up my musket
To fight 'em now no more
But hey, I ain't gonna love 'em
Shit, and that's for goddamn sure

And I don't want no pardon
For what I've done or am
And I will not be reconstructed
And I just don't give a damn