Dixie, is the place for me.
Dixie, down by the sea.
Dixie, along the river.
Dixie, and the Mississippi.
Dixie, and the Stars ‘n’ Bars.
Dixie, and wartime scars.
Dixie, and the Blue, White and Red.
Dixie, and all her Confederate dead.
Dixie, with her blood-stained ground.
Dixie, everything is still, not even a sound.
Dixie, O, my Dixie, what have they done to you,
Abe’s crew of vandals dressed in blue?
Dixie, command my heart, pour my blood so pure,
for a brand new start.
Dixie, place me gently on a hill or a mound,
place me as such, so l can then look around.
Dixie, use my blood to grow more Southern cotton,
for what has happened here, shall never be……
Comdr. Anthony Jones, CSA Europe
21 Barbridge Rd., Hesterway Estate
England, UK GL51-OBS