deu|In the year of '61, we left our native land,
Cause we could not bend our spirits to
the tyrant's stern command.
So we rallied 'round our Buckner,
while our hearts were sad and sore,
To offer our blood for freedom as our fathers
And we'll march! march! march!
to the music of the drum,
We were driven forth in exile,
from our old Kentucky home....
When at first the southern flag unfurled
its' folds upon the air,
Its' stars had hardly gathered 'til
Kentucky's sons were there.
And we swore a solemn oath and sternly
We would only live as freemen in the
dark and bloody ground.
With Buckner as our leader
and Morgan in the van,
We'll plant the flag of freedom
in our fair and happy land,
We'll drive the tyrant's minions
to the Ohio's rolling flood,
and dye her waves with crimson
with the coward yankee blood..
So cheer ye southern braves,
you will soon see the day,
When Kentucky's fairest daughters
will cheer you on your way,
Then their proud old mothers
will welcome one and all,
for united we stand,
but divided we fall!