The Conspirators' Song

Or the Ex Confederate's Boast

Air: The Rogue's March

In eighteen hundred and sixty,
Just twenty years ago—woe
In Charleston's famous city,
We broke up in a row—wow !
We met again in Baltimore,
And there our plans were laid—aid
If defeated at the ballot box,
We would at once secede-ede!

Defeated at the ballot-box
We did, in sixty-one—un
Fire the shot on Sumter's walls |
And thus the fight begun-gun |
We shot the Starry Banner down,
The Yankee nation's rag-gag !
The stars and bars we then unfurled
Beside the Bonnie Blue flag-rag.

For four long years, with shot and shell,
And loathsome prison pens—ens!
We tried to crush our Yankee foes,
And thus attain our ends—nens!
Our Northern friends did all they dare,
To in our plan—ran
Our cause was lost, but for a time,
To be renewed again—when?

In eighteen hundred and seventy-six,
With Congress at our back-ack !
We once more tried the same old game,
Upon another tack—hack !
With Tilden's barrel at the front,
We thought to come out even,
But were beaten in our little trick,
And lost by 8 to 7.

Now in eighteen hundred and eighty,
Our Hancock leads the van—nan!
Behind the Union uniform,
Our cause looks up again-nien!
We tried this on the battle-field,
To take the Yankee's in—sin
And now with Hancock at the front,
Our glorious cause we'll win—thin

Arouse! Confederate Brigadiers!
Turn out your men in gray—aye!
The Ku-Klux Klan and Rifle Clubs,
Are ready for the fray—aye |
Unfurl the stars and bars again,
With Hancock we must win—in
For if defeated at the polls,
We shall be counted in-Too THIN