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.