(S. Silverstein)



There was a wild colonial boy, Jack Doolan was his name

Of poor but honest parents, he was born near Castlemaine

He was his father's only son, and his mother's pride and joy

So dearly did his parents love their wild colonial boy



Barely sixteen years of age, he first began to roam

And found Australia's sunny shores, and called it his true home

He robbed the wealthy squatters, their assetts to destroy

A terror to the rich ones, was the wild colonial boy



Back in eighteen sixty one, began his wild career

With a head that knew no danger, and a heart that held no fear

He held the Mudgee mail coach up, and he shot Judge MacEvoy

A curse to every copper was the wild colonial boy



Later on that very day, as Jack he rode along

Listening to the kookaburras, pleasant laughing song

He spied three mounted troopers, Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy

With a warrant for the capture of the wild colonial boy



"Surrender now, Jack Doolan, for you see we're three to one

Surrender now in the Queen's high name, or your living days are done"

Jack drew two pistols from his belt, and he waved them proud and high

"I'll fight, but not surrender", cried the wild colonial boy



Jack fired once at Kelly, brought him to the ground

Then turning round from Davis' gun, received his mortal wound

A bullet pierced his proud young heart, from the pistol of Fitzroy

And that's the way they captured him, the wild colonial boy



Yes that's the way they captured him, the wild colonial boy



(c) Unknown