Come and listen for a moment, lads
How across the sea from England
Now the jury found me guilty
Then says the judge, says he
"Oh, for life, Jim Jones,
But take a tip before you ship
Don't get too gay in Botany Bay
Or else you'll surely hang
Or else you'll surely hang," says he
"And after that, Jim Jones
It's high above on the gallows tree
The crows will pick your bones"
And our ship was high upon the sea
But the soldiers on our convict ship
Were full five hundred strong
For they opened fire and somehow drove
But I'd rather have joined
With the storms ragin' round us
And the winds a-blowin' gale
I'd rather have drowned in misery
Than gone to New South Wales
There's no time for mischief
And like poor galley slaves
We toil and toil, and when we die
Must fill dishonored graves
And it's by and by I'll slip my chains
And I'll join the bravest rankers there
And some dark night, when everything
I'll shoot those tyrants one and all
I'll gun the floggers down
Oh, I'll give the land a little shock
