Buzz
Let’s be honest—state songs are rarely, if ever, good. It’s unlikely you’ll find a single person in the U.S. who genuinely loves their state anthem, let alone knows how to sing it. Most are filled with overly flowery language, using words like fertile and verdant, and bizarrely placed apostrophes in terms like ev’ry and treach’rous. Odds are, your state song was penned by a pair of eccentric sisters, perhaps named Myrtle and Eustacia Crockpot-Twistlington, with each verse becoming progressively more nonsensical.
And those are the decent ones. At least, that’s the standard for state songs if we’re talking averages. To rank among the absolute worst, a state song has to go above and beyond in its terribleness. These are the songs that stand out—for all the wrong reasons.
3. Florida - “Old Folks at Home”
It takes a certain level of confidence for a state to adopt a state song with a title that practically mocks itself. You won’t see Arkansas rushing to make “Proud to Be Illiterate” official or Utah embracing “We’re Mostly Mormons.” But Florida? Florida owns it. It’s like the guy nicknamed “Fatty” who wears it with pride. The fact that Florida openly acknowledges its retiree population isn’t the issue—it’s the rest of the song that raises eyebrows.
The real issue lies in the song being more commonly recognized as “(Way Down Upon) The Swanee River,” a tune that is undeniably steeped in racism. Penned by Stephen Foster in 1851 as a minstrel song, it includes references to “darkies” and is written in a blatant ethnic dialect. While some modern performers replace “darkies” with “Lordy” and update the language, the official state song retains its original, problematic vernacular:
Way down upon de Swanee ribber, Far, far away, Dere’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere’s wha de old folks stay.
It’s worth noting that other states with offensive lyrics have either updated their songs or replaced them entirely. Florida considered doing the same in 1997 when a state representative proposed a change. However, the decision-makers, likely older white men, seemed to think, “Nah, we prefer the original. It’s catchy!”
2. New Jersey - The Sound of Silence, or Perhaps “Born to Run”
It’s unclear whether to applaud or feel sorry for New Jersey, the only state without an official anthem. Despite being the third colony to achieve statehood in 1787, it has never settled on a state song. Perhaps New Jersey’s leaders are simply wise enough to avoid associating their state with poorly written lyrics.
For decades, the songwriter behind “I’m From New Jersey” has campaigned tirelessly to have his song officially recognized, but the governor has yet to give it the green light. This might be due to the songwriter’s name—Red Mascara—or perhaps because he’s adapted the song for other cities, swapping out “New Jersey” for names like “Philly.” His website even offers a downloadable version with this alteration.
The absence of an official state anthem has led many to unofficially adopt Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” as New Jersey’s de facto song. In 1979, the state even dubbed it the “Unofficial Youth Rock Anthem.” This raises two questions: First, what is New Jersey’s Official Youth Rock Anthem? And second, why would the state endorse a song whose core message is essentially, “Let’s escape this town as fast as we can?”
Baby this town rips the bones from your back. It’s a death trap; it’s a suicide rap We gotta get out while we’re still young.
5. Every Other State Song
The competition for the worst state song is too close to call. Should it be Louisiana’s “You Are My Sunshine,” written by a man who staunchly opposed integration (he once rode his horse up the Louisiana State Capitol steps to protest it)? Or should it be Missouri’s state song, which gained popularity through its association with Truman, only for Truman himself to later declare it terrible and express his disdain for it?
Other states in the running include North Carolina, whose anthem proudly declares its men as “plain and artless.” Connecticut took a more whimsical approach by adopting “Yankee Doodle.” South Carolina isn’t unique in personifying its state as a woman, but it gets awkward when the lyrics describe what happens if someone tries to lift her skirts.
Maybe it’s time for someone to start a business crafting new state songs, or perhaps we should just do away with them entirely. We already have a national anthem, and it’s not half bad. Sure, it originated as a drinking tune, but “home of the brave” is far superior to “plain and artless” any day of the week.
4. Tennessee - “Bicentennial Rap” and More
Tennessee residents probably chuckle at New Jersey’s lack of a state song. This Southern state has embraced music wholeheartedly, holding the record for the most state songs—seven in total, plus one amusing “bonus track.”
Tennessee’s official song lineup includes “My Tennessee,” “When It’s Iris Time in Tennessee,” and “The Tennessee Waltz,” which implies that any song with “Tennessee” in the title gets the official nod, even if it’s about your best friend stealing your partner (as in the waltz). Among the other four state songs is “Rocky Top,” a hillbilly anthem that only briefly mentions the state.
Once, two strangers climbed old Rocky Top, searching for a moonshine still; Those strangers never came down from Rocky Top; Guess they never will; Corn refuses to grow on Rocky Top; The soil’s far too rocky; That’s why everyone on Rocky Top gets their corn from a jar;
The eighth song listed on Tennessee’s official government website is the “Bicentennial Rap,” officially recognized as the Bicentennial Rap Song in 1996. It might be the only rap song to mention the Gore family, Elvis, and Dollywood. Adopted to make history more engaging for students, the inclusion of the line “Whisky, whisky, sipping smooth” raises a few eyebrows. You can read the full lyrics here. Since no one has recorded this for YouTube, you can listen to “Rocky Top” above instead.
1. Maryland - “Maryland, My Maryland”
If Maryland truly wanted a state song less tied to the Confederacy, it might as well switch to “Dixie.” Written in 1861 as a poem often called America’s “most warlike” verses, the opening line labels Lincoln a tyrant and urges people to “avenge the patriotic gore.” It continues with:
She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb- Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!
A later verse includes the line “‘Sic semper! ’tis the proud refrain.” These words might sound familiar, as John Wilkes Booth, Lincoln’s assassin, famously shouted “Sic semper tyrannis” after shooting the president. The song also feels like something out of a schoolboy’s joke book, as it’s hard to picture anyone singing “She breathes! she burns! she’ll come! she’ll come!” with a straight face.
The violent tone of Maryland’s state song is somewhat softened when you hear it performed. The melody is an old, familiar one—you’ll recognize it as “O Tannenbaum” or “O Christmas Tree.” Hearing the cheerful tune of a Christmas classic paired with lyrics about Lincoln as a tyrant is nothing short of jarring.
