In Britain's Georgian times There were so many crimes No time to hang each crook guilty of a felony Cos there's no room to jail you They'd send you to Australia To live in our new-fangled penal colony Think that sounds like heaven? In 1787, it wasn't that kind of once in a lifetime trip First fleet took the journey Months at sea so churny Over 40 died while they were on the ship
Those that lived were plucky Plucky, plucky, plucky Crammed on board with rats and vermin, cockroaches in bed Stench inside was sicky Yucky, yucky, icky Lice not very nice, can't get them out of my head
Landed Bay of Botany Convicts' life was rotteny Needed food and shelter but everything failed Threes too strong for felling Stagnant water smelling A real step back in time in New South Wales Soil too poor for budding Huts washed up by flooding Plans for building houses came to sticky ends The best of all their labours Attacked by local natives And that is when your neighbours don't become good friends
Situation tricky Tricky, tricky, tricky Then a second fleet of ships was due aground Some thought this was lucky But illness had strucky Half were dead or I'll Fever was spinning around
After seven years Convict record clears Just one catch You got to pay your own way back No wages meant no money No choice, but what's funny Many stayed, became farmers and made a stack Original arrivers Proved hardy survivors Sydney turned into a place you'd choose to go Think that they'd be fairer To convicts who were sent there? No way they built prisons even more remote
Port Arthur was one of the jails Where every escape attempt fails Was one man who nearly got through Billy Hunt dressed as a kangaroo
Inmate's life still sucky Sucky, sucky, sucky Life behind bars was not very nice Hideous and messy Who would ever guessy This hellhole would become a Holiday paradise?