A man walks onto the stage at a Maryland government event and starts reading a nine-verse poem encouraging the state to join the Confederacy. He urges his captive audience to stop “the despot, “the tyrant,” and “the Vandal”—referring to Abraham Lincoln. We must “avenge the patriotic gore that flecked the streets of Baltimore” during 1861 riots against Union soldiers. The poem ends with a rousing “Huzzah! She [Maryland] spurns the Northern scum!”

Really makes you proud of our Old Line State, right?

Luckily, you’re probably thinking, the days when Confederate sympathizers could get that kind of audience are about 150 years in the past. But the poem isn’t some obscure propaganda piece. Set to the tune of “O Christmas Tree,” it has become the official state song performed at major Maryland events.

That’s why, as a state advisory panel recently recommended, it’s long past time to get rid of “Maryland, My Maryland.”

First a quick history refresher: Maryland never joined the Confederacy, Lincoln wasn’t such a bad guy, and the Confederate cause didn’t have much going for it. Given how firmly James Ryder Randall’s lyrics sit on the wrong side of history, the panel’s recommendation seems pretty common-sense.

But to Governor Larry Hogan, this is “political correctness run amok.” It’s not quite clear what he thinks “political correctness” means, but it surely doesn’t cover a song literally calling half the country “scum.” Also, it’s not quite the best way to attract tourist dollars.

Many will fall back on tradition and history, but “Maryland, My Maryland” was never a beloved standby of state pride. The anthem wasn’t adopted until 1939 after being vetoed once. According to the panel, making “Maryland, My Maryland” the state song may have even been a symbolic stance against racial equality. Contemporary newspaper the Baltimore Afro-American harshly criticized the song when it was first adopted —making the efforts to eliminate “Maryland, My Maryland” almost as much of a tradition as the song itself.

Of course, it’s important not to cover up the ugly parts of history. Although Maryland’s near-secession is an important part of state history, it shouldn’t be the major image we present when we sing state pride. Four minutes of state pride doesn’t need to be a fully-asterisked history lesson, and there’s an easy solution: the decidedly less bloody 1894 version by poet John T. White, with all of the Maryland love and none of the awfulness.

I know that state spirit isn’t especially high around here, given that Bethesda’s is much closer to D.C. than Annapolis, but knowing about the blatant awfulness of “Maryland, My Maryland” makes me ashamed to see the red-white-black-and-gold flying over Whitman. This issue has been popping up every few years since at least the ‘70s, but maybe this time we can—and should—finally reach the coda on this song of hate.