O'er that little town of Charlottesville, the gray-backed storm-clouds were a-gatherin';

The fine tapestry of our history the foes and traitors were unravellin'.

The mighty statue, there, of General Lee was to be removed or torn asunder;

Every Southern son, and daughter, knew 'twas more than a blunder.

Now… ol' Charlottesville is funny, that small town there in Virginie;

It's home to modern Carpetbaggers, and to the sons of foreigners a-plenty,

But the proud people of the South-lands can remember better days there;

The roots are planted deep and strong, and all their ancestors are laid there…

On that steaming Monday in August o' '17, all the Patriots assembled,

And rallied 'round the statue, while the traitorous Communists a-trembled;

The Patriots bore aloft their torches, chanting: "You will not replace us!",

And fended off their cowardly enemies, who tried to beat and mace 'em.

The League of the South and I.E., Trad Workers and the Vanguard;

Brothers marched as one together, although they bore many contradicting banners.

They knew their 'cause was justified and righteous, and they didn't fear to fall or martyr,

To claim this Birthright: Blood and Soil… which is nigh thicker than the water.

But the Mayor of Charlottesville, Signer, wasn't finished with his meddlin';

He revoked the promised legal permit, for the message they'd been peddlin'.

He sicked the shield-carryin' riot coppers on the park, where they were rallied;

He was hopin', even if against hopin', that he could even up the tally.

But Signer's college troops retreated, and refused to do their duty;

Unleashed, the black-clad Anarchists, intentions grim and bloody.

They caused the peaceful marchers to be swept up 'midst the riot;

The fighting led to Black Dodge Challenger, and helicopter, violence.

When the dust had all but settled, how the sorry Reds began a-howlin';

Although they were beset upon, the fighting Patriots had trounced 'em.

But our brothers, caught in the melee; they had suffered many losses;

Though innocent, their camp now sits, well, in a cell a-brawlin'.

Well… we're older, and we're wiser, determined more than ever,

Our enemies are many, and they sure as Hell are clever;

The system knows we're ready and we're angry; thus, they'll never-more ignore us,

So… join your band of brothers, now, and raise your voices high in this merry chorus:

Onward to Charlottesville! Onward to Charlottesville!

Our victory's in the stars!