| Lyrics: | VAN DIEMAN'S LAND
Come all you gallant poachers,
That ramble void of care,
That
walk out on a moonlight night
With dog and gun and snare.
By the keepers of the land, my
boys,
One night we were trepanned,
And for fourteen years transported
Unto Van
Dieman's land.
The first day that we landed
Upon that fateful shore,
The
planters came round us,
They might be twenty scor@.
They ranked us off like
horses
And sold us out of hand,
And yoked us to the plough, brave boys,
To plough Van
Dieman's Land.
God bless our wives and families,
Likewise that happy shore,
That isle
of sweet contentment
Which we shall see no more;
As for the wretched females,
See
them we seldom can,
There are fourteen men to every woman
In Van Dieman's
Land.
Oh, if I had a thousand pounds
All laid out in my hand,
I'd give it all
for liberty
If that I could command;
Once more to Ireland I'd return,
And be a happy
man,
And bid adieu to poaching
And to Van Dieman's Land.
Note: Banks of
Newfoundland is a parody of this
@outlaw @Irish @Australia @transportation
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VANDIEMN
RG
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