While the majority of these Civil War Stories are confined to the historical going-ons of important American figures (great and small), it is natural for an historian to excavate for her or himself a place in his or her heart to ensconce that which said female/male historian has passion for. I may devote much of my time and this electronic space to things that actually happened, but I must admit a certain affinity for the cultural aspects of those who suffered through the Civil War. It is with pleasure that I commend to you and to the Gods of the Internet the following.
I've been doing some research for my latest scholarly work, A Priori Thought and the Test of Civil War Metaphysics: The Ontological Implications of Being and Feeling with the Modern Embrace of Eschatological Gender Roles in the Pre- and Post-Antebellum Period. It's actually coming along really well, and I thought I'd share one of the most interesting discoveries I made during the course of writing this opus. Many of you might be familiar with the economic depression during the Civil War and the sub-culture of hobos and rail-riders that developed around it's most unfortunate members.
But what I'm sure you've never heard is the beautiful folk song/poem that was their anthem. I say song "slash" poem because there are two schools of thought regarding this epic. One believes that this work was simply recited in iambic pentameter, while another holds that the words were sung to the tune of Vivaldi's Oratorio L'adorazione delli tre re magi al bambino Gesu (which itself is a lost work) a cappella, with twelve-part harmonies. What is agreed upon is the division of labor in this factory of words and feelings. The first two lines of each verse were performed by a soloist, while the final line would be shouted (or sung beautifully) by every member of the hobo community who was present. The cultural impact of this work cannot be overstated, and I feel it a great honor to share it with the world. Without further ado, I give you:

THE HOBO'S LAMENT
Bitch bitch, moan moan,
When we gonna get a new brain phone?
FROM THE GUV'MINT!
Cry cry, whine whine,
How we gonna harvest all this sunshine?
WITH OUR FINGERS!
Scream scream, wail wail,
What shall we buy at the Electric Sale?
IN NEBRASKA!
Talk talk, complain complain,
Are you gonna help me to steal the Kaiser's name?
WITH INTEREST!
Nag nag, fuss fuss,
Who's gonna drive our pneumatic bus?
FOR MUSSOLINI!
Groan groan, gripe gripe,
Now can we smoke our yellow-brick pipe?
BY SOCIAL DARWINISM!

Certain historical evidence points to Dishrag Moses, King of the Hobos as the author of this epic song. Other sources claim that the words date back to biblical times. That is, the times of the Hobo Bible (essentially 1844). What is clear is that, should the efforts of Abraham Lincoln have failed and the United States as we know it crumbled, Dishrag Moses would have ascended to lead this country and that the Hobo's Lament would be its national anthem

I, for one, wish that that was the case.