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Johnny Reb

He struggles across the field
In his suit of butternut gray.
He's already wounded twice,
But that won't keep him from the fray.

They call him, Johnny Reb,
And that's what he's proud to be.
He'll gladly give up his life
To keep his pride and liberty.

He stumbled and he fell,
Yet, rose again to climb the hill.
The courage within his heart
Is more abundant than the blood he'll spill.

He lets loose one last Rebel yell
And falls upon his hated foe.
Another ball takes his life,
But he won't go alone to that home of the soul.

Just like his Rebel spirit,
That rises to live again on high.
The South will rise once more
Because it's spirit will never die.

 

© copyright 1994 Ron Shultz
All rights reserved.
Reprinted by permission