Poor Ned

 Poor Ned, you're better off dead

 At least you'll get some peace of mind

 You're out on the track

 They're right on your back

 Boy they're ‘gonna hang you high 

Eighteen hundred and seventy eight

Was the year I remember so well

They put my father in an early grave

Slung my mother in gaol

Now I don't know what's right or wrong

But they hung Christ on nails

Six kids at home and two still on the breast

They wouldn't even give her bail

Poor Ned, you're better off dead

At least you'll get some peace of mind

You're out on the track

They're right on your back

Boy, they're ‘gonna hang you high 

You know I wrote a letter

'Bout Stringy-Bark Creek

So they would understand

That I might be a bushranger

But I'm not a murdering man

I didn't want to shoot Kennedy

Or that copper Lonnigan

He alone could have saved his life

By throwing down his gun

Poor Ned, you're better off dead

At least you'll get some peace of mind

You're out on the track

They're right on your back

Boy, they're ‘gonna hang you high 

You know they took Ned Kelly

And they hung him in the Melbourne gaol

He fought so very bravely

Dressed in iron mail

And no man single-handed

Can hope to break the bars

It's a thousand like Ned Kelly

Who'll hoist the flag of stars

Poor Ned, you're better off dead

At least you'll get some peace of mind

You're out on the track

They're right on your back

Boy, they're ‘gonna hang you high