Come, all ye sons of freedom,
And join our Southern band,
We are going to fight the Yankees,
And drive them from our land.
Justice is our motto,
And Providence our guide;
So jump into the wagon,
And we’ll all take a ride.
Chorus.—So wait for the wagon! the dissolution wagon;
The South is the wagon, and we’ll all take a ride.
Secession is our watchword;
Our rights we all demand;
To defend our homes and firesides
We pledge our hearts and hands.
Jeff Davis is our President,
With Stephens by his side;
Great Beauregard, our General,
He joins us in our ride.
Chorus.
Our wagon is the very best;
The running gear is good;
Stuffed round the sides with cotton,
And made of Southern wood.
Carolina is the driver,
With Georgia by her side,
Virginia holds the flag up
While we all take a ride.
Chorus.
Old Lincoln and his Congressmen,
With Seward by his side,
Put old Scott in the wagon,
Just for to take a ride.
McDowell was the driver,
To cross Bull Run he tried,
But there he left the wagon
For Beauregard to ride.
Chorus.
The invading tribe, called Yankees,
With Lincoln for their guide,
Tried to keep good old Kentucky,
From joining in the ride;
But she heeded not their entreaties,—
She has come into the ring;
She wouldn’t fight for a government,
Where cotton wasn’t king.
Chorus.
Manassas was the battle-ground;
The field was fair and wide;
The Yankees thought they’d wipe us out,
And on to Richmond ride.
But when they met our “Dixie” boys,
Their danger they espied,
They wheeled about for Washington
And didn’t wait to ride.
Chorus.
Brave Beauregard, God bless him!
Led legions in his stead,
While Johnson seized the colors,
And waved them o’er his head.
So rising generations,
With pleasure we will tell,
How bravely our Fisher,
And gallant Johnson fell.
Chorus.
Raleigh Register. |