What was it? What do your dim, faint voices say? “Will we ever get home? Will we ever lick them for good? We’ve got to go on and fight till we lick them for good. They’ve got the guns and the money and lots more men But we’ve got to lick them now. We’re not fighting for slaves. Most of us never owned slaves and never expect to, It takes money to buy a slave and we’re most of us poor, But we won’t lie down and let the North walk over us About slaves or anything else. We don’t know how it started But they’ve invaded us now and we’re bound to fight Till every last damn Yankee goes home and quits. We used to think we could lick them in one hand’s turn. We don’t think that any more. They keep coming and coming. We haven’t got guns that shoot as well as their guns, We can’t get clothes that wear as well as their clothes, But we’ve got to keep on till they’re licked and we’re independent,