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Oh there's not a dodge worth knowing or showing that's going
But you'll learn (This isn't blowing) from the Bold Kelly Gang.
We've mates where-e'er we go that somehow let us know
The approach of every foe to the Bold Kelly Gang.
There's not a peeler riding Wombat Ranges, hill or siding
But would rather far be hiding, though he'd like to see us hang.
We thin their ranks, we rob their banks and ask no thanks for what we do.
Oh the terror of the camp is the Bold Kelly Gang.
Then if you want a spree, come with me, and you'll see
How grand it is to be in the Bold Kelly Gang.
Published as part of the excellent Bush Music Club publication, Songs From The Kelly Country, (edited by John Meredith) in commemoration of the 75th anniversary of the death of Ned Kelly.
The publication notes this song as being also published as Bushwhacker Broadside No.9.
The illustration to this post is the logo of the Bush Music Club, Australia's oldest