| My name is James O’Donnell,
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| In iron and chains I’m bound.
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| In exile from my native land,
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| As a traitor to the crown.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| I was born into the Dublin streets,
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| A native wild and free.
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| When I was young I’d sport and run
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| By the Coombe and liberties.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| And all were poor, we did endure
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| The worst of old John Bull.
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| The depravations of our lot,
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| We swore we’d pay in full.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| So I joined the brave militia men
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| And assembled in a band.
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| We marched on, the fight to win,
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| And free our native land.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| We fought hard and we fought long,
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| But outnumbered five to one.
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| We were hunted through the lanes and streets,
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| Killed with pikes and guns.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| INSTRUMENTAL
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| Some were hung, on the gibbet spun,
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| Woeful was their fate.
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| I was taken to Kilmainham Gaol
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| My sentence to await.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| The jury found me guilty,
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| I stood my crime to pay.
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| The Judge called out from the dock,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| I saw my aged father
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| Trembling at the bar.
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| Likewise I saw my mother
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| Tearing her white hair.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| I was put on board a vessel,
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| Moored at Customs House Quay.
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| The sailors stood around and jeered,
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| «No more this land you’ll see.»
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| Oh son, oh son, you’re days are done,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay
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| I watched old Eireann fade from view,
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| And tears did fill my eyes.
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| That verdant land I’ll see no more,
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| Until the day I die.
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| Oh son, oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| My Name is James O’Donnell,
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| In iron and chains I’m bound.
|
| In exile from my native land,
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| A traitor to the crown.
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| Oh son oh son, where are you gone,
|
| You’re bound for Botany Bay.
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| Oh son oh son, where are you gone,
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| You’re bound for Botany Bay. |