Eighteen-hundred and 78 was the year I remember so well They put my father in an early grave and slung my mother in gaol Now I don’t know what’s right or wrong But they hung Christ on nails 6 kids at home & 2 still on the breast They wouldn’t even give us bail
And we sing
Poor Ned, you’re better off dead At least you’ll get some peace of mind You’re out on the track They’re right on your back Boy they’re gonna hang you high
You know I wrote a letter ’bout Stringy-Bark Creek So they would understand That I might be a bushranger But I’m not a murdering man
I didn’t want to shoot Kennedy Or that copper Lonnigan He alone could have saved his life By throwing down his gun
And we sing
Poor Ned, you’re better off dead At least you’ll get some peace of mind You’re out on the track They’re right on your back Boy they’re gonna hang you high
You know they took Ned Kelly And they hung him in the Melbourne gaol He fought so very bravely Dressed in iron mail And no man single handed Can hope to break the bars There’s a thousand like Ned Kelly Who’ll hoist the flag of stars
We sing Poor Ned, you’re better off dead At least you’ll get some peace of mind You’re out on the track They’re right on your back Boy they’re gonna hang you high