Lyrics
and if our southern cause is lost
and go and join in the bloody strife
Beyond our southern border, for our demands of justice, and go and join in the bloody strife
till this cruel war is over
before the tyrants harm us
and if our southern cause is lost
who will protect my wife and child
And southern rights denied us, i ll march away to the firing line Southern, then heaven be with us in the strife
i ll march away to the firing line
Till this cruel war is over, before the south shall bow her head South, we ll drive the mercenary horde
We ll be ground beneath the tyrant s heel, my rifle on my shoulder, i ll march away to the firing line
i ll bid farewell to my wife and child
And die in the southern army, here s my heart and here s my hand Band, for our demands of justice
We ll drive the mercenary horde, and die in the southern army String, then heaven be with us in the strife
And care for my aged mother, farewell to my aged mother
we ll be ground beneath the tyrant s heel
before the tyrants harm us
Beyond our southern border, i ll go and join in the bloody strife South, who will protect my wife and child
I ll march away to the firing line, here s my heart and here s my hand
and kill that yankee soldier
I ll march away to the firing line, my spirit will not falter
And i should not recover, for our demands of justice, and kill that yankee soldier
beyond our southern border
And kill that yankee soldier, i ll march away to the firing line
My rifle on my shoulder, if i am shot on the battlefield
Be with the southern soldier, and if our southern cause is lost
Before the tyrants harm us, i ll march away to the firing line, and go and join in the bloody strife
And care for my aged mother, upon my country s altar Southern, and care for my aged mother
We ll be ground beneath the tyrant s heel, we ll be ground beneath the tyrant s heel, upon my country s altar
and die in the southern army
i ll place my knapsack on my back
My rifle on my shoulder, i ll bid farewell to my wife and child, i ll march away to the firing line
Before the south shall bow her head, then heaven be with us in the strife String, beyond our southern border
my rifle on my shoulder