You England boys of Liverpool I'll have you to beware
Tis when you go a-hunting with your dog, your gun, your snare
Watch out boys, for the gamekeepers
Keep your dog at your command
Just think on all them hardships going to Van Dieman's land

We had two Irish lads on board, Mickey Murphy and Patty Malone
And they were both a stoutest friends that ever a man could own
But the gamekeeper, he caught them and from ol' England's strand
They were seven years transported for to plough Van Dieman's land

We had on board a lady fair, Bridget Reilly was her name
An' she was sent from Liverpool, for a-playin' of the game
Our captain fell in love with her, and he married her out of hand
And she gave us good usage boys, goin' to Van Dieman's land

The moment that we landed there, upon that fatal shore
The planters they inspected us, some fifty score or more
They marched us off like horses an' they sold us out of hand
Then yoked us to the plough me boys
For to plough Van Dieman's land

As I lay in me bunk one night a-dreamin' all alone
I dreamt I was in Liverpool, way back in Marybone
With me own true love beside me, and a jug of ale in me hand
Then I woke so brokenhearted lying on Van Dieman's land
Then I woke so brokenhearted lying on Van Dieman's land