The Black Matilda - The Rumjacks

By the windy shores o Canada bay I broke my fast for Lucia’s day

A beguiling figure she blew my way & rattled me rovin' heart

The snipers crack, the metronome of pricy heels on polished stone

That I were soon to call my own by way o' the ancient art

I were cozened by a whiff-o-the-whim that scours the Costa harryin'

The likes o' men who’ve lost the lamp, the rudderless and bewildered

The sands below are littered wi' bones o' those who’ve taken a belly o' stones

And turned their backs on wives & homes to follow the black Matilda

Ho-ro m’lovelies cross yer hearts & hope to die

If e’er ye’re drawn beneath a murky fathom of her eye

Ho-ro my lovelies kiss yer arse a fond goodbye

Ye’ll never again be able to lift yer head so bloody high

For even the boys of Inverary know, from Tortuga to Jericho

She took three hundred souls below off the deck o' the Andalusia

The poets and the Sages tried to warn us down the ages

Their blood drips from the pages where they tell o' the Black Matilda

She pursed her lips & spun a tune as fine as any silk cocoon

That’s ever left McEacherns loom & held me there in a tawper

A bastard I was born y’ken?

I lived as tho' I’d never end

I’ll die a disenchanted man, they’ll bury me as a pauper

For men have drowned & men have swung, the brig at Iron Cove were hung

Wi' a garland of the old, the young, all battered & unfamiliar

Theres no poetry theres no tune, no point in howlin' at the moon

A caution to ye very soon ye’ll waltz yer Black Matilda

By the windy shores O' Canada bay I blew my friggin brains away

Its not as tho' i’m proud to say, its not as tho I coulda killed her

I’m off to Hells begotten shores where men like me have sailed before

And they shall sail forever more in the name o' the Black Matilda

Ho-Ro m’lovelies cross yer hearts & hope to die

Its enough to make ye cry, enough to make ye cry!

Ho-Ro m’lovelies kiss yer arse a fond goodbye

Its enough to make ye cry, enough to make ye DIE!