Old Antebellum we remember thee well

The South’s deep heat and the stories it tells

The cotton grew deeper on miles of plantation

Overlooking her sorrow and his damnation

She belonged to his father now his beauty his skin

His light complexion common of his kin

Her caramel skin and the dark green of her eyes

Inspired those acts that made those emeralds cry

Bound by history to the vices of men

To his heart’s dark desires and the horrors of sin

You must not do wrong his father would say

After he finished his work on a long hard day

The father fettered to a fate without understanding

Shackled by a craving sans comprehending

Lust seeking freedom from his dark green eyes

Escaping to her mother’s never-ending cries

The sweetness of sin his son knew well

As did his daughter as her tears would tell

God weeps in heaven and he in hell

Old Antebellum we remember thee well