Tendering of owed tallies, debtor’s gaol then a galley to the antipodes
Where you will sleep in a hole until you build your prison
Which then you will live in without pot to piss in until your bucket is kicked
Lashed at the post again, licked for every backtalk, trick and thickness
Fucking Micks they hate us the British but they can never break us
We are a tornado of grenades, guerilla raids, retreat, no base
No uniform no face and no trace, you have to kill us all to erase
Sedition, open places the leaders of our rebellions make their way
On simple bikes, simple men plainly dressed strapped with secret weapons
Spymasters commanding massive forces, volunteers are massing
More with each passing day, come asking can I fight for you today
We praise whatever sent these fit men our way, soon will come the day.
Alchemisland 
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