Farewell to your bricks and mortar, farewell to your dirty lies
Farewell to your gangers and your gang planks and to hell with the overtime
For the good ship Ragamuffin she's lying at the Quay
For to take oul Pat with a shovel on his back to the shores of Botany Bay

I'm on me way down to the quay where the ship at anchor lays
To command a gang of navvys that they told me to engage
I thought I'd drop in for a drink before I went away
For to take a trip on an emigrant ship to the shores of Botany Bay.

The boss came up this morning, he says 'well Pat you know
If you don't get your navvys out I'm afraid you'll have to go'
So I asked him for me wages and demanded all me pay
And I told him straight, going to emigrate to the shores of Botany Bay.

And when I reach Australia I'll go and look for gold
There's plenty there for digging of, or so I have been told
Or else I'll go back to me trade and a hundred bricks I'll lay
Because I live for an eight hour shift on the shores of Botany Bay.