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There was Pearse and McGee, and Brown, he made three ,in chains they crossed the seas,
In Australia they stood, and as bold comrades would, they made their own plans to leave,
To the bush they'd go, cross the hills they'd roam, with the birds and trees,
Farewell to the cap, the irons and the lash, to a lifetime of misery

The days passed by 'neath the tropical sky their thirst and their hunger grew,
And as night fell in that empty hell they knew they would they would need a brew.
Pearse took the axe and with mighty hacks, he beat his old friend gone,
And on the hard dry ground, the two sat down to bite off the last of Brown.

The ship shone bright in the middle of the night, The people could faces see
The two bob knew that sometime soon they would sit down and long for a meal,
As the sun rose Pearse began to toss, no more he'd ever see,
Shot him round the head, to death he bled and then there was only McGee

Alone and lost, the voices of ghosts, rang inside his head,
Tormented and dazed, his ashen eyes blazed, he wished hes own self dead,
Rope of hemp, around his neck, to hang from and old gum tree,
And as he hanged, the boars cames down to finish the last of McGee.

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