| Oh, listen for a moment, lads, and hear me tell me tale
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| How o’er the sea from England’s shore I was obliged to sail
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| The jury says: «He's guilty, sir,» and says the judge, says he:
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| «For life, Jim Jones, I’m sending you across the stormy sea
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| And take my tip before you ship to join the iron gang
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| Don’t be too gay at Botany Bay or else you’ll surely hang
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| Or else you’ll surely hang,» says he, «and after that, Jim Jones
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| High upon the gallows tree the crows will pick your bones
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| You’ll have no chance for mischief then, remember what I say:
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| They’ll flog the poaching out of you down there at Botany Bay.»
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| The wind blew high upon the sea and the pirates come along
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| But the soldiers in our convict ship was nigh five hundred strong
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| They opened fire and somehow drove that pirate ship away
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| I’d rather have joined the skull-and-bones than go to Botany Bay
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| Now night and day the irons clang, and like poor galley-slaves
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| We toil and strive and when we die, we fill dishonoured graces
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| But by and by I’ll break me chains and to the bush I’ll go |
| And join the brave bushrangers there like Donahue and Co
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| And some dark night when everything is silent in the town
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| I’ll kill them tyrants one by one and shoot the floggers down
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| I’ll give the law a little shock, remember what I say
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| They’ll yet regret they sent Jim Jones in chains to Botany Bay |