One Sunday morning as I went walking

By Brisbane waters I chanced to stray

I heard a prisoner his fate bewailing

As on the sunny river bank he lay

I am a native from Erin's island

Transported now from my native shore

They tore me from my aged parents

And from the maiden whom I adore

I've been a prisoner at Port Macquarie

At Norfolk Island and emu plains

At castle hill and cursed Toongabbie

At all those settlements I've woked in chains

But of all places of condemnation

And penal stations of new south wales

Of Moreton bay I have found no equal

Excessive tyranny each day prevails

For three long years I was beastly treated

And heavy irons on my legs I wore

My back from flogging was lacerated

And often slain with my crimson gore

And many a man from downright starvation

Lies mouldering underneath the clay

And captain logan he had us mangled

At the triangles in Moreton Bay

Like the Egyptians and ancient Hebrews

We were oppressed under Logan's yoke

Till a native black lying there in ambush

Did give our tyrant his mortal stroke

My fellow prisoners exhilarated

That all such monsters a death shall find

And when from bondage we're liberated

Our former sufferings shall fade from mind