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rebel son - sittin' up and drinkin' with robert e. lee lyrics
takin’ a trip in my old chevy, ridin’ through the south
i looked up on a hill, and i saw a big white house
i caught a glimpse of a bearded man, polishing his sword
i saw robert e. lee outside, sittin’ on the porch
i pulled up in the yard and saw a cotton field out back
he invited me to sit with him and share a fifth of jack
he had criss_cross bars and thirteen stars blowin’ in the wind
he said: “save your confederate money boy, ’cause the south will rise again.”
and robert e. lee did not like them northeners one bit
he was a rebel and he knew it and he didn’t give a sh_t
we’ve been talking about dixie and how old times used to be
and i’ve been, sittin’ up, drinkin’ with robert e. lee
we talked about his troops and the rebel infantry
and those thirteen southern states that will live in infamy
as he took another swig of his black label whiskey
he said: “that yankee pride don’t mean a d_mn thing to me.”
he spoke about his men and how they always fought so brave
and how they wove their sacred flag, though many lives they gave
he struggled to gain independence for his southern ground
he stood up for his cause and never once did he backed down
and robert e. lee did not like them northeners one bit
he was a rebel and he knew it and he didn’t give a sh_t
we’ve been talking about dixie and how old times used to be
and i’ve been, sittin’ up, drinkin’ with robert e. lee
(drink ’em up.)
it was two o’clock am and the fire was gettin’ low
so i thanked him for our talk ’cause it was time for me to go
while walkin’ to my car i turned to thank him once again
but the lot was bare, there was nothing there but rocks and dirt and sand
was it my imagination playing with my head?
i remember hearing clearly every single word he said
every movement, every gesture, every tear that his heart shed
his dream is still alive, even though his body’s dead
robert e. lee’s memory lives on in the southern soul
along with his boys who fought and died out in the cold
lee was a man with tons of courage, a hero without a doubt
he was a man with determination, he was a man from the south
and robert e. lee did not like them northeners one bit
he was a rebel and he knew it and he didn’t give a sh_t
he said: “son, i’ve got many stories to tell
ulysses s. grant can kiss my ass and go to h_ll.”
we’ve been talking about dixie and how old times used to be
and i’ve been, sittin’ up, drinkin’ with robert e. lee
(drink ’em up, brother.)
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