Trad.

While on my way down to the quay
Where the ships at anchor lay
To command a gang of navvys
That I was told to engage
I stopped in for to drink awhile
Before l'd go away
For to take a trip on an emigrant ship
To the shores of Botany Bay

Farewell to your bricks and mortar
Farewell to your dirty life
Farewell to your gangways and your gang planks
And to hell with your overtime
For the good ship Raggamuffin
Is lying at the quay
For to take old Pad with the shovel on his back
To the shores of Botany Bay

Well the boss came up this morning
And he said "Well Pat you know
lf you didn't get those navvys out
l'm afraid you'll have to go"
So I asked him for my wages
And demanded all my pay
And l told him straight, we would all emigrate
To the shores ot Botany Bay

And when l reach Australia
I'lI go and search for gold
There's plenty there for digging up
Or so I have been told
Or else I'II go back to my trade
And a hundred bricks l'Il lay
Because l live for an eight hour shift
On the shores of Botany Bay

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