The Last Of McGee

There was Pierce and McGee and Brown he made three

In chains they crossed the seas

In Australia they stood, as bold comers would

They made there own plans to leave

To the bush they'd go, across the hills they'd roam

with the birds off in the trees

Farewell to the camp, the irons, and the lash

into a lifetime of misery

The days passed by 'neath the tropical sky

Where their thirst and hunger grew

And as night fell in that empty hell

They knew they would be their own food

Pierce took the axe and with mighty hacks he put his old friend down

And on the hard, dry ground

The two sat down to fry up the last of Brown.

The ship shone bright in the middle of the night

they took their own advice and stayed

The two both knew that sometime soon

They would sit down and long for meat

As the sun rose Pierce began to toss

No more he'd ever see

Sever the head, to death he bled

And then there was only McGee

Alone and lost, the voices of ghosts

rang inside his head

Tormented and dazed, his ashen eyes blazed

He wished his own self dead

A rope of hemp around his neck

To hang from an old gum tree

And as he hung

The branch came down and finished the last of McGee