LYRICS:

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.
Trees 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 neighbours
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 ill 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?