In 1803 we sailed out to sea Out from the sweet town of Derry For Australia bound If we didn't all drown The marks of out fetters we carried On our rusty iron chains we cried for out weans Our good women we left in sorrow As the main sails unfurled, wild curses we hurled On the English and thought of tomorrow At the mouth of the Foyle, bid farewell to the soil As down below deck we were lying O'Doherty screamed woken out of a dream By a vision of Bold Robert dying The sun burned us cruel as we dished out the gruel Dan O'Connor was down with a fever Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay How many will reach their receiver? I cursed them to hell as our bough fought the swell Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight White horses rode high as the devil pa**ed by Taking souls to Hades by twilight Five weeks out to sea, we were now 43 We buried our comrades each morning In our own slime we were lost in a time Endless night without dawning Van Diemen's Land is the hell for a man To spend out his whole life in slavery Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law Neither wind nor rain care for bravery Twenty years have gone by and I've ended my bond My comrades ghosts walk behind me A rebel I came and I'm still the same On the cold winds of night you will find me Oh, I wish I was back home in Derry