Barbara Dickson - Van Diemen's Land lyrics

Come all you gallant poachers that ramble void of care That walk out on a moonlight night with your dog, your gun, your snare The hare and lofty pheasant, you have at your command Not thinking on your last career upon Van Diemen's Land Poor Thomas Brown from Nenagh Town, Jack Murphy & poor Joe Were three determined poachers as the country well does know By the keepers of the land, my boys, one night they were trepanned And for fourteen years transported unto Van Diemen's Land The first day that we landed upon that fatal shore The planters came around us there might be twenty score They ranked us off like horses and they sold us out of hand And they yoked us to the plough, brave boys, to plough Van Diemen's Land The cottages we live in are built with sods of clay We have rotten straw for bedding but we dare not say them nay Our cots we fence with wire and we slumber when we can To keep the wolves and tigers from us in Van Diemen's Land Oft times when I do slumber, I have a pleasant dream With my sweetheart sitting near me, close by a purling stream I am roaming through old Ireland with my true love by the hand But awaken, broken hearted, upon Van Diemen's Land Oh, if I had a thousand pounds, all laid out in my hand I'd give it all for liberty if that I could command Again to Ireland I'd return and be a happy man And bid farewell to poaching and to Van Diemen's Land