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Ned Kelly was born in a ramshackle hut,
He battled since he was a kid,
He grew up with duffers and bad men and thieves
And learned all the things that they did.
Ned Kelly would ride from the back-country hills,
He'd ride into town like a lord,
He'd steal all the squatters' fine horses, and then
He would take them back for the reward.
At sixteen young Ned was a wild, reckless lad,
Helped hold up a coach without fear,
But he was arrested, remanded, and then,
They put him in gaol for a year.
When he came out, he was bitter and hard,
Far worse than he ever had been,
He robbed and he plundered, became a wild boy,
The wildest Australia had seen.
He shot down the troopers who came on his track,
And laughed at the price on his head,
Ten thousand pounds for the whole of the gang,
And two thousand pounds just for Ned.
The bank at Jerilderie next took his eye,
This job brought him lots of renown,
He wasn't contented to stick up the bank,
But he held up the whole flaming town.
Down at Glenrowan they held up the pub,
They were having a drink and a song,
The troopers rode up and surrounded the place,
The Kellys had waited too long.
Ned came out shooting, a gun in each hand,
And wearing his armour of steel,
He was fifteen times wounded before he fell down,
Never more would he plunder and steal.
They took him to Melbourne, and nursed him to health,
The Judge said, 'You're guilty!' to Ned,
A rope from a rafter, the sun in the east,
And the famous Ned Kelly was dead.
Some say he's a hero who gave to the poor,
While others 'A killer!' they say,
It just goes to show the old saying is true,
The saying that 'Crime does not pay.'
Yet when I look round at some people I know,
And the prices of things that I buy,
I say to myself, 'Well, perhaps after all,
Poor Ned wasn't such a bad guy.'
From the Original Bushwhackers and Bullockies Band -"The Shearer's Dream" LP 1980.