your bricks and mortar farewell to your dirty lime
Farewell to your gangers and gang planks, and to hell with your over
For the good ship ragamuffin she's lying at the Quay
To take oul Pat with a shovel on his back to the shores
of Botany Bay.
on my way down to the quay where the ship at anchor lays
To command a gang of navvys that they told me to engage
thought I'd drop in for a drink before I went away
For to take a trip on an emigrant ship to the shores of Botany Bay.
boss came up this morning, he says "well Pat you know
If you don't get your navvys out I'm afraid you'll have to go"
I asked him for my wages and demanded all my pay
For I told him straight, I'm going to emigrate to the shores of Botany
And when I reach Australia I'll go and look for gold
There's plenty there for the digging of, or
so I have been told
Or else I'll go back to my trade and a hundred bricks I'll lay
Because I live for an eight hour
shift on the shores of Botany Bay.