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.