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Μουσικά νέα και συζητήσεις / Απ: Ερμηνεία στίχων
« στις: 06/12/08, 13:08 »
CONFEDERATE ANTHEM
Oh, I'm a good ol' rebel, now that's just what I am,
And for this yankee nation, I do not give a damn.
I'm glad I fought against her, I only wished we won.
I ain't asked any 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.
I hates the striped banner, and fit it all I could
I rode with Robert E. Lee, for three years, thereabout.
Got wounded in four places, and I starved at Point Lookout.
I caught the the rheumatism a campin' in the snow.
But I killed a chance of Yankees, and I'd like to kill some more.
Three hundred thousand Yankees are 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.
I can't pick up my musket and fight 'um down no more
But I ain't gonna love 'um, now that is certain sure
And I don't want no pardon for what I was and am
I won't be reconstructed and I don't give a damn
Oh, I'm a good old rebel, now that's just what I am,
And for this yankee nation, I do no give a damn.
I'm glad I fought against her, I only wished we won.
I ain't asked any pardon for anything I've done.
I ain't asked any pardon for anything I've done.
Oh, I'm a good ol' rebel, now that's just what I am,
And for this yankee nation, I do not give a damn.
I'm glad I fought against her, I only wished we won.
I ain't asked any 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.
I hates the striped banner, and fit it all I could
I rode with Robert E. Lee, for three years, thereabout.
Got wounded in four places, and I starved at Point Lookout.
I caught the the rheumatism a campin' in the snow.
But I killed a chance of Yankees, and I'd like to kill some more.
Three hundred thousand Yankees are 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.
I can't pick up my musket and fight 'um down no more
But I ain't gonna love 'um, now that is certain sure
And I don't want no pardon for what I was and am
I won't be reconstructed and I don't give a damn
Oh, I'm a good old rebel, now that's just what I am,
And for this yankee nation, I do no give a damn.
I'm glad I fought against her, I only wished we won.
I ain't asked any pardon for anything I've done.
I ain't asked any pardon for anything I've done.