Down by the river
I watched the reeds sway
The fishes kept to the shade
Tropical sun beat down and drove me insane
As I hid from my killer
I could hear his frustrated cursing
And the swish of his machete
Cutting through the glade
Breath ragged; can I escape his blade
My blood for this here sugarcane
Worked till I can’t no more
Came here from Donegal
Seeking a better life, found none at all
It certainly is
The Queens-Land
Hopes and dreams of riches
Immigration and infected stitches
My muscles carved to the heat
Ready to jump into the nearest creek
This old Irish dog
Is still a beast
The rest of my work posse grateful for the break
As they sat awaiting my capture
Makes me miss Ma’s gruel
Tasteless, but gave you the strength of a mule
The machete waver still nearby
Looking for me as I silently cry
He was once my employer
Now I am just a fugitive
Ready to become a bushman
In this strange, sun burnt land
Escape into the unknown
Learn to live in the wilderness
With a swaggy on my back
To be chased down by troopers and hung with the blacks
I slip into the fast flowing water
As the machete can still be heard
Swinging through the canes
Freedom just at hand
Tonight I’ll dream of green fields and Christmas time
As I drift in the current, away from my crime
Redcoats will march down the same path
Looking for my body awash with the stars
© Jack Nugent
