Heart of the South

BY CAROLE NICHOLS

It's something that's born in the blood;
You have to be raised here to feel it.
This poignant swell in the strongest heart,
No time or law or government can kill it.

A southerner lives with the past all the time,
From the Virginia fields to Georgia's hills.
Bitter battle scars still score our land;
We still hear the guns when the air stills.

The blood of our men has made our soil rich;
Their souls linger ghostly in whispering pines.
The wind carries that rousing rebel yell
That still sends thrills down southern spines.

At Shiloh, you can still smell the blood
Of the men who heard that final bugle call;
And the heart of our land cries for the bodies
Of the ones who ventured above the Line to fall.

Every child of the South knows Dixie's proud words;
They sing it with joy and know that it's true.
We'd wither away without the magnolia's sweet scent,
And the Stars and Bars that still flies in the blue.

There's no place, no town, no river, no wood,
That doesn't remind us of what has long past;
Each sight and sound brings back a way of life
That the powers that be said just couldn't last.

The rebel in us will still stand for our beliefs,
We'll continue to honor the Confederate grave;
The south hasn't risen, for it never fell....
It's still the home of the best of the brave.