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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1489599-WE-WERE-REBELS
Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #1489599
Ditty based on the tune to "Sink the Bismark."
WE WERE REBELS

Way back in eighteen sixty-two or was it sixty-three, I rode with General Forrest just south of Tennessee. We didn't fight the Yankees, no matter what they say, cause when we saw the Union troops, we rode the other way.

We saw the Yanks a comin' through the General's telescope, and we were full of fightin' spirit and our souls were full of hope. Old Bedford yelled, "Now here this!" he musta flipped his lid, "We haven't yet begun to fight, what's more we never did!"

Chorus: Oh! We didn't fight the Yankees, no we didn't fight at all, we spent our time at Ripley and we really had a ball, chasin' after women while the General stayed on call, a livin' it up on lemon juice and rot-gut alkey haul.

Then they made me a corporal, gave me a stripe or two, they put me in charge of cookin', the beef, the beans, the stew. I didn't keep those stripes for long, back to private I was led, for when they ate my special stew, the troop was almost dead.

Then they made me a forward scout, on a special recon team, we met the Yankees in the woods - at first they were mighty mean. But, we didn't shoot, we didn't run, we didn't even fight, we sat around and played some cards, throughout the entire night.

Chorus: Oh! We didn't fight the Yankees, no we didn't fight at all, we spent our time at Ripley and we really had a ball, chasin' after women while the General stayed on call, a livin' it up on lemon juice and rot-gut alkey haul.

Twas way down in Ripley town, that I met a pretty girl, her eyes were big, her hair was long, with a special little curl.  I sobered up, I took a bath, my beard and hair I trimmed, I met her near the parson's house, where the light was low and dim.

In the dark we sat for hours, her hand I held in mine, and I was thinkin' deep inside, that life was mighty fine. Then to my dumb and sad dismay, she turned to me and said, with a pistol cocked and loaded, aimed straight at my dumb head. "You dear Reb are my prisoner, a Yankee spy I am, my family lives in Dixie, but I belong to Uncle Sam."

Chorus: Oh! We didn't fight the Yankees, no we didn't fight at all, we spent our time at Ripley and we really had a ball, chasin' after women while the General stayed on call, a livin' it up on lemon juice and rot-gut alkey haul.

I was sent to a Union prison camp, up north in Yankee land. My heart was sad and broken, for I had been dealt a dirty hand. But I soon escaped and headed south, returned to fame and glory. But that my friends I'll save 'till later for that's another story.

And now the war is over and the story can be told, about the General's fightin' men, the young ones, and the old. We didn't fight the Yankees, no matter what they say, cause when we saw the Union troops, we rode the other way.

Chorus: Oh! We didn't fight the Yankees, no we didn't fight at all, we spent our time at Ripley and we really had a ball, chasin' after women while the General stayed on call, a livin' it up on lemon juice and rot-gut alkey haul.

I know…I’ll never make a poet!!!!
PS
I had family on both sides during the Civil War, fighting in the same area against each other and Native American ancestors fighting my white ancestors. We finally grew up!!!!
Maybe!


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