Oh to see Mad Tom of Bedlam, ten thousand miles I’d travel, Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes for to save her shoes from the gravel. And so we sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, Bedlam boys are bonny, for they all go bare and they live by the air and they want no drink nor money.

Well news came through from Hobart town that Brady had been hung and Lacey and the rest realised what it was they’d done, two years of revolution cut short upon that rope, along with Brady’s neck broke everybody’s hope. Oh we were starving, freezing, half dead, we were nothing more than slaves, in chains, tortured, desperate, bush was the only place we could go. Sent to Maria Island Lacey was reborn a rebel man, an agitator, troublemaker escaped by catamaran, sent back to Macquarie Harbour he made his final aim, to put a rope around king’s neck or be the one that’s slain. Yes back in Macquarie Harbour he made his final plot, I’ve had enough of the lash let’s kill the bloody lot, I’ll wreak the blood of tyrant kings with witnesses to see and show them the true meaning of death or liberty. Oh we were starving, freezing, half dead, we were nothing more than slaves, in chains, tortured, desperate, death was the only thing we could hope for. Yeah back on Sarah Island Lacey made his final plan, if he couldn’t kill the king then he’d kill the same named man, and after Rex we’ll do the rest or be done in ourselves, there’s nothing left to lose once you’re past the Gates of Hell. Lashed half to death Lacey drew breath and sang a hopeful song, he knew he’d soon be on his way to become well hanged. To Hobart Town they dragged the wretch to where the gallows stood, they let him have one last speech but never knew he could say we were starving, freezing, half dead, we were nothing more than slaves, in chains, tortured, desperate, death was the only thing we could hope for. And he said, well I’m not afraid to die I don’t believe in a vengeful god, and I don’t regret the death of kings or the wreaking of their blood, and as I die I hope not for heaven or mercy, but only that you continue to oppose tyranny. And even through the Gates of Hell they heard echo of his words, that united a resistance that knew no other cause, than freedom, bloody freedom or to die would be their fate, and through liberty and death, they closed Hells Gates. They were starving.

Sentenced to the South Seas, sure I tried to disagree, no-one listened to me so I just set out for being free, before it all went straight to hell outside of the Brisbane Hotel I was the leader of the refugees, fighting for our liberty. Oh this is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash. They kept coming for me with the lash, but I was big and I was brash, come at me boys you’ll get a bash, fuck you all I’m Martin Cash. It was working in the cattle game that people first heard my name that soon rose to unwanted fame when for stolen cows I got the blame. It wasn’t me I was just standing here with a hundred head of healthy steer, looking after them for this bloke I saw, he’s the one who broke the law. But they didn’t think my tale that flash and I saw them reaching for the lash so on horseback through them all I crashed shouting fuck you all I’m Martin Cash. Oh life on the road rarely ends well but if you can’t be rich have a story to tell and as you raise your last glass on your way to hell, drink to Martin Cash and the Brisbane Hotel. This is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash. And so began life on the lamb and though they’d try I’d never hang, no shackle, whip, chain or lash could stop the likes of Martin Cash. A debonair charismatic mate, Martin played blind cards with fate, his tongue kept him from the public’s hate, his quick feet from the pearly gate. ‘Gain and again caught with stolen goods, these aren't mine you’ve misunderstood, guy stayed here who must have taken these things, he went that way quick get after him. Moved to Tas with my one true love looking for the quiet life, but it wasn’t the wife that was trouble and strife but the fash, the guards and the ruling far right. Oh life on the road rarely ends well but if you can’t be rich have a story to tell and as you raise your last glass on your way to hell, drink to Martin Cash and the Brisbane Hotel. This is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash. One day the cops of booze they reeked tried to rape my girlfriend in the street, I beat them so that she could run before the rest of the cops came with clubs and guns. But the barkeep seen the whole event and told the judge those cops were bent, once again my luck it didn’t stop, I was paid a pound for punching a cop. Dash and flash, confuse and escape, eventually we’d move too late, Port Arthur was a painful place but my tongue and wit kept the lash in place. Took two goes to make my escape, with two other men I tried my fate, we lost our clothes on the swim across, naked and wet all seemed lost. Oh life on the road rarely ends well but if you can’t be rich have a story to tell and as you raise your last glass on your way to hell, drink to Martin Cash and the Brisbane Hotel. This is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash. And up ahead was a sentry hut and steaming naked we charged we rushed, we surprised a lad still in his dacks, and dressed ourselves in the guards own slacks. From this day on there was no other choice than bushranging as a way of life and me and my gang would take the cash of the fascist, lying, rank upper classes. While on the run we stayed at old mate’s place out of the city where we could wait and party between adventurous heists where we stole the money but never the vice. It’s a lonely life out in the bush, we ordered from Hobart drink and cush, and our favourite fiddle player would come and play while we cursed Austraya. This is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash. Well I was back in Hobart Town visiting the love to who I’m bound when I was spotted by the crown and they raced me chased me all round and round. Trapped at the base of Brisbane street I looked desperately for my release. But my luck it last it seemed it fell, that day nothing could go well and since it seemed I was bound for hell I shot a cop outside the Brisbane Hotel. Oh life on the road rarely ends well but if you can’t be rich have a story to tell and as you raise your last glass on your way to hell, drink to Martin Cash and the Brisbane Hotel. This is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash. In Hobart Town I was restrained, kept alive by only my good name and standing as an honest con, even the guards were strung along. Sentenced to death ‘gain and again, there’s something to be said of having fame and being good at the wording game, I want escape they want the same. I never raped I only stole from them that think they own it all and proved that with courage and wit, you can beat those facist, stuck up pigs. Pardoned, released, I made my peace and passed away old out in the bush and wrote my tale so all could tell of Martin Cash and the Brisbane Hotel. Oh life on the road rarely ends well but if you can’t be rich have a story to tell and as you raise your last glass on your way to hell, drink to Martin Cash and the Brisbane Hotel. This is the man who made the dash, who bashed the fash to save his lass, yes this is the man who dodged the lash, this is the tale of Martin Cash.

Weeping widows and willows wail out to sea, the ocean is filled with our misery, as thirty five souls follow thousands before to their pointless death on these southern shores. And I guess we’ll never know why he raised that gun, but if it hadn’t been there then he couldn’t have done. So take them off of the streets, take them off of the police, keep your hunting rifles out of our children’s reach. For there aint no more use to an AR15 than the industrial killing of humanity. And some shores just see more pain than most; Port Arthur is haunted by more than just ghosts. Now I wasn’t there when he raised that gun but my friends went to school with him say it needn’t have come and if you don’t want to see this again and again, like our USA friends gunned down by USA friends then take them off of the streets, take them off of the police, keep your hunting rifles out of our children’s reach. For there aint no more use to an AR15 than the industrial killing of humanity. And some shores just see more pain than most; Port Arthur is haunted by more than just ghosts. Now we all want our guns for protection and fun, to feel like a man and to teach to our sons, to fight off oppressors and to hunt our own food, but is it worth having mass shootings at your local school. No take them off of the streets, take them off of the police, keep your hunting rifles out of our children’s reach. For there aint no more use to an AR15 than the industrial killing of humanity. And some shores just see more pain than most; Port Arthur is haunted by more than just ghosts. Port Arthur is haunted by more than just ghosts. Port Arthur is haunted by more than just ghosts.

Well I went down to Satan’s kitchen, for to fetch me food one morning, and there I saw, all piping hot, the souls on the spit a-turning. And so we sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, Bedlam boys are bonny, for they all go bare and they live by the air and they want no drink nor money. Well me staff has murdered giants, and me bag a long knife carries, for to cut mince pies from the children’s thighs, with which to feed the fairies. And so we sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, Bedlam boys are bonny, for they all go bare and they live by the air and they want no drink nor money.

Goodnight settlement, hello anarchy, I've got a hundred ex-convicts, and they're standing right beside of me. You displaced the natives, so now they'll fight with me, refer to me as, the gov'ner of the woods. To the gov'ner of the town, from the gov'ner of the woods, also known as the gov'ner of the tiers. You've been sent to colonise, but you've been waiting for supplies, you will be waiting, for years upon years. Because we've got contacts we've got spies, they say the woods have a thousand eyes, we know who to talk to who to trust and what to steal. Nobody here is a robin hood, but it's just too easy to do no good, so come on boys, let's rock this wagon's wheels. Goodnight settlement... To the gov'ner of the town, we've heard of the amnesty you've laid down, so put on the billy, because we're all coming round. Now Hobart town you're out of luck, you've given us six months to run amok, the most bushrangers ever seen are here to wipe their records clean. Whitehaven's wounded soon to be dead, we made a pact this is what he said, if i'm going to die, then hack my neck, don't let those fascists take my head. Now all the rogues report to me, and I rule from the ranges to the sea, and I treat from gov'ner to gov'ner in this state of anarchy. Goodnight settlement... To the gov'ner of the town, did you know your folk are all scared of me, but there's none here as tough as Black Mary. Yeah we live rough but we live free, there's a hundred more just like me, you've set us up to thrive in the kangaroo economy. Our dogs chase the kangaroo down, and we sell the meat in your town, while you're waiting for supplies, bushranger meat keeps you alive. I wear the pelt like the natives do, and I write in the blood of the kangaroo, we're ex-convicts dressed as natives, and we're coming or you. Goodnight settlement... Mary and I are on the run, I turn to her and fire my gun. There's honour among thieves, but not towards my loved one. They've lost my track, I've lost everyone, and you might think my race is run, but I got ammunition in my humpy with my gun. I led the outlaw community, but makes it hard when they double your bounty, with fewer here that I could trust, and now it's only me. So with no more risk of mutiny, as I push my quill across my diary, I'm writing bloody scrawls, to create Tasmania's history. And from the beginning, we both knew our endings, we were living our lives, as compost in training. From the gallows, our friends and our enemies, who'll be the next one, to go out swinging, be it you me or both of us, there's graves left to fill, in the meantime, lets give each other hell. Goodnight anarchy, hello settlement, I had a hundred ex-convicts, but now they've all been spent. You can kill me now, so long as you preserve my diary, and I can be remembered as, the gov'ner of the woods.

Came into this world kicking and screaming, and that's exactly how we'll die. They think they can break us, we would like to see them try. They wanna shape and mould us, in the name of reform, we don't fit their doll shaped moulds, don't wanna wear maid uniforms. We're the flash mob, flash mob, we're the flash mob. They send us out and make us servants, but we don't wanna be assigned. They beat and rape and whip and chain us, but we stay strong deep down inside. They line is up and powder our noses, to be chosen as free settlers wives, forever to be ruled over by our husbands, and they're wondering why we don't wanna be brides. We're the flash mob, we're the flash mob, flash mob, flash mob. Outside the walls of the female factory, we got street smarts in our bags, while we distract them with our bodies, we're trafficking behind their backs. Flashy mouths and flashy clothes, prison issue dress won't kill our fun, when we're thrown back in factory we don't worry, cause we got black market tobacco and rum. We're the flash mob, flash mob, we're the flash mob. They can split us up and put us where we can't be seen, but in Ross and Launceston we will reconvene, we'll escape our masters but we may not get far, but from Richmond to Strahan they'll know who we are. Sent here for the sins of our masters, who deprive us in perverted ways, then we're punished for pregnancy out of wedlock, and we have to take all the blame. Brought up fast and tough and free, we won't be rules by the upper classes. Lady Franklin and the gov'ner look down their noses, they can look real hard when we flash our asses. We're the flash mob, flash mob, we're the flash mob, we're the flash mob, flash mob, we're the flash mob.

It doesn’t matter the crime, they just make up the time. They like to watch you stand in line and suffer on your way to Paradise. The Judge is just like the Preacher, they both think other men are lesser creatures to be sent to Paradise. Well I’m not a bad man, yes I’m as innocent as the next man, well I do what I can ‘cos I’m a family man. The government said, you’ll be dead if you steal bread again, but when I took them up on their offer well they sent me off to transportation to Paradise. Oh the winds are howling, oh the waves are rolling, oh and in my dreams oh I hear the devil scream, welcome to Paradise. Well what did you think would happen when everything was owned by you? That we’d steal away and leave the world fresh and new for the select few? No we’ll steal and fight and break and take and make our own existence, I’d rather stake my life than take my chances with your system. Fuck your paradise. You say everybody be created equal, I say you don’t live the life of the people. You say build a new life for yourself but I work to death and only you acquire wealth. You say boundless plains but if you don’t share part of the gain then this isn’t a game it’s a pyramid system, where you stole all the land that you took from our brothers and sisters, our friends had no chance to defend from the gun and the germ and the steel and the stern. So yes I’ll steal your meat it’s worth the heat to see my family feed, but busted in the dead of night you sent men out to beat me and mine. Well I’m worth more than your right hand man, I’ll stand defend me and my son and as madness falls there’s only the red and the fist, this is not justice. Just this desperate place and your desperate plans to break every last man women and child. So taken from yet another home and sentenced alone, judged like so many you judge with no knowledge of life, no question whose story you’ll heed than those of the right creed. Fifteen more years in a cell, half my life in hell, before released to the street too old to defeat, too old for the drum and the beat and the meat. This land is for the quick of foot, the strong of arm and leg and mind, the young the brave who won’t be afraid to fight and lie to live and die free. And all that’s left for me [all that's left for me repeats about 5 times] is Paradise.

And me staff that’s murdered giants, crushed the man in the moon to a powder, and his soul did quake, his heart did break, and you’ve heard no screaming louder. And so we sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, Bedlam boys are bonny, for they all go bare and they live by the air and they want no drink nor money. Oh spirits white as lightning, shall on my journey guide me, and all shake quake, and all shall break, whoever so bespied me. And so we sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys, Bedlam boys are bonny, for they all go bare and they live by the air and they want no drink nor money.

Building ships to transport logs, putting trust in convict dogs. They stole the ship they're sailing away, what should we make the semaphore say? Fire on the ship! But the semaphore's manned by convicts too, we're trusting the dogs with a job to do, to our disgust, to our dismay, guess what they made, the semaphore say? There's no fire on the ship!

Down, down, down to the sea. Down, down, down to the sea. O’ sea-gypsy pirate come along in their boat, says let me take you to where the land runs out and there’s nothing but sea. Now if the fish keep biting we can live for free, we’ll make a place to sleep down by the beach, we can make alcohol from anything that grows and live where the turtles dig all the way down, down, down to the sea. Down, down, down to the sea. And here where the land ends and the plastic ends up, we can live and hide until the fish run out and there’s nothing but sea. Oh I am sick of working, you can take my job, and I’ll build a boat out of what has been thrown out, take it down to the water, through the river and out of the mouth of the estuary and all the way down, down, down to the sea. Down, down, down to the sea. Oh sea-gypsy do what a sea-gypsy must, and turtle eggs make up for the fish that have been lost and planting coconut trees wins back the land, for under the plastic there’s sand all the way down, down, down to the sea. Down, down, down to the sea. ‘Cos darling it’s better, down where it’s wetter, so won’t you take me down, down, down to the sea. Down, down, down to the sea. Down, down, down to the sea.

It doesn’t matter the crime, they just make up the time. They like to watch you stand in line and suffer on your way to Paradise. The Judge is just like the Preacher, they both think other men are lesser creatures to be sent to Paradise. Well I’m not a bad man, yes I’m as innocent as the next man, well I do what I can ‘cos I’m a family man. The government said, you’ll be dead if you steal bread again, but when I took them up on their offer well they sent me off to transportation to Paradise. Oh the winds are howling, oh the waves are rolling, oh and in my dreams oh I hear the devil scream, welcome to Paradise. Well what did you think would happen when everything was owned by you? That we’d steal away and leave the world fresh and new for the select few? No we’ll steal and fight and break and take and make our own existence, I’d rather stake my life than take my chances with your system. Fuck your paradise. You say everybody be created equal, I say you don’t live the life of the people. You say build a new life for yourself but I work to death and only you acquire wealth. You say boundless plains but if you don’t share part of the gain then this isn’t a game it’s a pyramid system, where you stole all the land that you took from our brothers and sisters, our friends had no chance to defend from the gun and the germ and the steel and the stern. So yes I’ll steal your meat it’s worth the heat to see my family feed, but busted in the dead of night you sent men out to beat me and mine. Well I’m worth more than your right hand man, I’ll stand defend me and my son and as madness falls there’s only the red and the fist, this is not justice. Just this desperate place and your desperate plans to break every last man women and child. So taken from yet another home and sentenced alone, judged like so many you judge with no knowledge of life, no question whose story you’ll heed than those of the right creed. Fifteen more years in a cell, half my life in hell, before released to the street too old to defeat, too old for the drum and the beat and the meat. This land is for the quick of foot, the strong of arm and leg and mind, the young the brave who won’t be afraid to fight and lie to live and die free. And all that’s left for me [all that's left for me repeats about 5 times] is Paradise.

Oh I wish I was in Indonesia drinking arak with the Javan punks. From the streets of Siduarjo to the mountains of Bandung. In Malang they all go crazy and in Solo they all get drunk, in Jogja they all are hipsters and Jakarta is just fucked. Thank fuck all our flannies are broken else we would be too hot. We lost it all in Indonesia, but that’s nothing to what we got. Oh I miss our friends in Indonesia, their spirit, their heart and fun. And I wish I was in Indonesia, drinking arak with the Javan punks.