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In 1803 we sailed out to sea Out from the sweet town of Derry For Australia bound, if we didn't all drown And the marks of our fetters we carried In the rusty iron chains we cried for our wains Our good women we left in sorrow As the mainsails unfurled, our curses we hurled On the English and thoughts of tomorrow At the mouth of the Foyle bid farewell to the soil As down below decks we were lying O'Doherty screamed woken out of a dream By a vision of bold Robert dying The sun burnt cruel as we dished out the gruel Then O'Connor was down with a fever Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay How many will reach there reciever? Oh I wish I was back home in Derry I cursed them to hell, as our bow fought the swell Our ship danced liked a moth in the firelight White horses rode high as the devil passed by Taking souls to Hades by twilight Five weeks out to sea, we were now forty-three Our comrades we buried each morning In our own slime, we were lost in a time Endless night without dawning Oh I wish I was back home in Derry Van Dieman's Land, is a hell for a man To live out his life in slavery Where the climate is raw, and the gun makes the law Neither wind nor rain cares for bravery Twenty years have gone by and I've ended my bond And comrades' ghosts walk behind me A rebel I came and I'll die the same On the cold winds of night you will find me Oh I wish I was back home in Derry |