The Lost Cause

[Verse 1]
A company of skeletons in rags
March home under tattered white flags
Dusty Bibles and deep empty pockets
Dark dreams and deeper eye sockets
We ain’t right in the head, and our women lay dead
We’re the losers who chose The Lost Cause

[Verse 2]
But home wasn’t built in a day
It’s the hard price of pride that we pay
No more cornbread, culture, or cotton
And nothing here grows but fingernails in our coffins
Old warriors tell ghost stories, old ghosts tell war stories
Such is the case, The Lost Cause

[Verse 3]
No government, cheese, and no cow
Just acres of skulls and a plough
But Bluegrass, we’ve grown used to you
Like tree roots grows through a rusty old shoe
Now our bright, sunny South, tastes copper in the mouth
No, we’ll never forget our Lost Cause

[Verse 4]
And the vulturous picking at bones
Lone chimneys like headstones for homes
Make those tattered white flags that hung at half-mast
Beat red with the blood sucked up through the staff
From the dirt where they plant us
“Sic Semper Tyrannis!”
May we one day avenge our Lost Cause