Convict

 

Here we sit with these chains on our hands and our feet,
for the theft of a loaf, it’s a high price to pay –
no jury to hear us, no judge to entreat.


We were hungry and cold; we had nothing to eat,
the sentence was given, lives stolen away –
here we sit with these chains on our hands and our feet.


Seven hundred and fifty souls sensing defeat,
what horrors unknown lurked in Botany Bay?
No jury to hear us, no judge to entreat.


Set sail from Plymouth the "mighty" First Fleet,
crammed tight in the hold, we could do naught but pray –
here we sit with these chains on our hands and our feet.


HMS Sirius, arms incomplete,
flagship of misery, led us away –
no jury to hear us, no judge to entreat.


With never a clue of the fate we would meet,
frightened, we hope for a brighter new day –
here we sit with these chains on our hands and our feet,
no jury to hear us, no judge to entreat.