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Anonymous Oceania

The Convicts Rum Song

Cut yer name across me backbone
Stretch me skin across a drum
Iron me up to Pinchgut Island
From today till Kingdon Come!

I will eat yer Norfolk dumplings
Like a juicy spanish plum
Even dance the Newgate Hornpipe
If ye'll only give me Rum!

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Vision

There shall broad streets their stately walls extend;
Embellished villas crown the landscape scene,
Farms wave with gold, and orchards blush between
There shall tall spires and dome-capt towers ascend,
And piers and quays their massy structures blend;
While each breeze approaching vessels glide,
And northern treasures dance on every tide.

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The Chinaman

What brings you here, John Chinaman,
Why come to New South Wales?
Why do you sail when breezes fan
The north side of your sails?

"Our native country scarce can hold
The increase of the year;
So we, allured by love of gold,
Will try our fortunes here."

What do you bring, John Chinaman,
As offering of your heart,
To us who feed, protect your clan,
And let you rich depart?

"We bring you small-pox from our land -
Nay, do not raise your ire,
We opium bring - a noble band,
And to your wealth aspire."

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The Only Land For Me (A currency Lad)

Prate not to me of foreign strand,
Of beauty o'er the sea -
"This is my own - my native land" -
The only land for me!

The only land for me
The only land for me
"This is my own - my native land" -
The only land for me!

I love to roam, like a wild gazelle,
O'er my native mountains blue,
And wildly, thro' the woody dell,
Chase the bounding kangaroo!

The bounding kangaroo
The bounding kangaroo
And wildly thro' the woody dell
Chase the bounding kangaroo!

[...] Read more

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There's Whisky In The Jar

As I was a-crossin' the Abercrombie Mountains,
I met Sir Frederick Pottinger, and his money he was countin'.
I first drew me blunderbuss and then I drew me sabre
Sayin', "Stand and deliver-oh! for I'm your bold decayver."

chorus: With my mush-a-ring-a-dah,

Ri-tooral-addy-ah,

There's whisky in the jar!

I robbed him of his money; it was a pretty penny,
I robbed him of it all and took it home to Molly;
I took it home to Molly and I thought she'd ne'er deceive me,
Oh! the divil's in the wimmin for they never can be aisy

. . . . . . . . . all but the last two lines lost to time. . . . . . .

She fired off my pistols and damaged them with water -
Oh! the divil's in the wimmin for rearin' such a daughter."

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Keep White the Strain

'Keep white the strain!"
Oh! brothers mine, in bitter shame
Australia kneels and makes the prayer;
Wrench out the loathsome lusts and swear
To be men worthy of the name;
To hold your manhood with such price,
Such love of lineage and race,
That, when the nations give her place,
She shall go forth all purified.

"Keep white the strain!"
Oh, maiden of the sunny south
Slim maiden, trim and typical
Let not forbidden kisses fall
Upon thy sweet love-drenched mouth;
But rather teach the alien earth,
The Island and the Asian horde,
Thy body, by thine own accord,
Shall bear true witness of thy birth.

[...] Read more

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Ned Kelly was a Gentleman

Ned Kelly was a gentleman:
Many hardships did he endure.
He battled to deprive the rich
Then gave it to the poor.
But his mode of distribution
Was not acceptable to all,
Though backed by certain gunmen
Known as Gilbert and Ben Hall.

I think it was a pity
They hanged him from a rope.
They made Australian history
But they shattered Kelly's hope.
If they sent him into Parliament
His prospects would be bright.
He'd function for the masses
If not for the elite.

And perhaps now in Australia
We'd have millions trained with him,

[...] Read more

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Botany Bay

Farewell to old England for ever,
Farewell to my rum culls as well,
Farewell to the well-known Old Bailey.
Where I used for to cut such a swell.

Chorus
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-addity,
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-ay,
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-addity,
Singing, too-ral, li-ooral, li-ay.

There's the captain as is our commander,
There's the bo'sun and all the ship's crew,
There's the first- and the second-class passengers,
Knows what we poor convicts goes through.

'Tain't leaving old England we care about,
'Tain't cos we mispells wot we knows,
But because we all light-fingered gentry
Hops round with a log on our toes.

[...] Read more

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Eugowra Rocks

It's all about bold Frank Gardiner with the devil in his eye
He said "We've work before us lads we've got to do or die
So blacken up your faces before the dead of night
And its over by Eugowra Rocks we'll either fall or fight"

Chorus: You can sing of Johnny Gilbert Dan Morgan and Ben Hall
But the bold and reckless Gardiner he's the boy to beat them all

We'll stop the Orange escort with powder and with ball
We'll shoot the coach to pieces and we'll down the peelers all
We'll lift the diggers' money we'll collar all their gold
So mind your guns are killers now my comrades true and bold.

So now off go the rifles the battle has begun
The escort started running boys all in the setting sun
The robbers seized their plunder so saucy and so bold
And they're riding from Eugowra Rocks encumbered with their gold

And as with savage laughter they left that fatal place
They cried "We've struck bonanza boys we've won the steeplechase!"

[...] Read more

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Jim Jones

O, listen for a moment lads, and hear me tell my tale-
how o'er the sea from England's shore I was compelled to sail.
The jury said, "He's guilty Sir," and says the judge, says he-
"For life Jim Jones, I'm sending you across the stormy sea;
and take my tip before you ship to join the iron-gang.
don't be too gay at Botany Bay, or else you'll surely hang-
Or else you'll hang" he says, says he- "and after that Jim Jones,
high up upon the gallows-tree the crows will pick your bones-
You'll have no chance for mischeif then; remember what I say,
They'll flog the poaching out of you, out there at Botany Bay"

The winds blew high upon the sea, and the pirates come along,
but the soldiers on our convict ship were full five hundred strong,
they opened fire and somehow drove that pirate ship away.
I'd have rather joined that pirate ship than come to Botany Bay.

For night and day, the irons clang, and like poor galley slaves
we toil, and toil and when we die must fill dishonoured graves.
But by and by I'll break my chains; into the bush I'll go
and join the brave bushrangers there - Jack Donohoo and Co.

[...] Read more

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