On a cold November's morn Was a sad and a dreary one
For Sherman came a marching With a hundred thousand men
You could hear them rebels call We don't care what the Yankees say The South's gonna rise again And you better turn tails And head back where they've been We've still got our Confederate money We don't care what the Yankees say The South's gonna rise again
Johnny Reb's now in retreat But fighting till the end With nothing left but the burning past
For Sherman gave the order Burn Atlanta to the ground
The war between the North and South
But let us turn the pages back To the time of yesteryear