The Ballad of Jack Lefroy
Anon. Music J.J. Armstrong
Come all you lads and listen, a story I would tell,
Before they take me out and hang me high,
My name it is Lefroy, and my life I
But the old judge has sentenced me to die.
My mother she was Irish and she taught me at her knee,
But to honest work I never did incline,
As a youngster I could ride any horse was wrapped in hide,
And when I saw a good 'un he was
all young lads take warning and don't
be led astray,
the past you never, never can recall;
young your gifts employ, take a lesson from Lefroy,
his fate be a warning to you all.
"Go straight, young man," they told me when my first long
stretch was done,
"If you're jugged again you'll
have yourself to thank,"
But I swore I'd not be found digging nuggets in the ground
When the best ones were lying in the bank.
Well, I've stuck up the mail-coaches, and I've ridden
with Ben Hall,
And they never got me cornered once until
A pimp was in their pay gave my dingo-hole away,
And they ran me down to earth at Riley's
"Come out, Lefroy!" they
called me, "come out, we're five
But I took my pistols out and stood my ground.
For an hour I pumped out lead but they got me in the head,
And when I awoke they'd got me bound.
a pleasant day to live, boys, a gloomy one to die,
Dangling with your neck inside a string-
How I'd like to ride again down the hills to Lachlan
But when the sun rises I must swing.