My brother died at Wilson's Creek and Lord I seen him fall
The Yankees won the battle and McCulloch lost his life, yeah
And on the way to Fayetteville we cursed McCulloch's name
We fell back to the Boston Mountains in the North of Arkansas
And when you die you'll be a foot soldier just like me
I hate you more than any other man alive
Goddamn you Ben McCulloch
I hate you more than any other man alive
He was every inch a soldier, every word was his command
Well they told us that our enemy would all be dressed in blue
So I snuck out of camp and then I heard the news next night
I killed a boy the other night who'd never even shaved
If we control the Mississippi then the Federals are through
And mourned the dead that we'd left behind and we was carrying the lame
Well his eyes were cold as the lead and steel forged into tools of war
Well the poster said we'd get a uniform and seven bucks a week
The best rations in the army and a rifle we could keep
In the Devil's infantry
Well they marched us to Missouri and we hardly stopped for rest
Then he made this speech and said, "We're comin' to the test"
He took the lives of many and the souls of many more
And when you die you'll be a foot soldier just like me
Well we've got to take Saint Louie boys before the Yankees Do
Goddamn you Ben McCulloch
Well they forgot about the winter's cold and the cursed fever too
When I first laid eyes on the general I knew he was a fightin' man
I don't even know what I'm fightin' for, I ain't never owned a slave
