The way
They said you must join our way
We do not fly any cross banner
We do not honor old Olustee
We are of a soft, genteel manner.
In our camp we all get along
Waltz and curtsy with civility
Gone the hated Dixie throng
Oh it's so very lovely
Oh the thought of Rebels yelling
Erupting upon our quiet way
It's our history we are re-telling
Not some Southron winning the day!
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