O where are you, my Southron Son?
Past far from the echoed Ancients,
Trapped in the offense of yesterday
Forever imprisoned in soulish descents.
Will you rise to save what’s yours
By birth and blood freely shed,
Or will the echoes from the past
Ring empty in your head?O where are you my Southron Daughter?
Now made to play the harlots role,
Graced in all beauty like no other
Ever asked to dance and lose your soul.
Will you rise up to save what’s yours
By birth to grow a nation,
Or will the care of vanity
Give life to your enemies’ sensation?Bring back to all that Southron Pride
“Southron Call”
Which ruled in simpler days;
Repented of what made her weak
Restored to gracious and beautiful ways.
Service to God and honor to the South.
Very nice.