Emigration and Free Settlers more view 9



source: Australian Melodist Songster

SITE SOURCE: GOLD, EMIGRATION AND FREE SELECTION


PADDY MALONE

Oh! My name is Paddy Malone, or ’twas so in Tipperary,
But to tell what it’s now, I’d be bothered, och hone;
And the girls that I danced with, light-hearted and airy,
Would hardly remember poor Paddy Malone.
‘Tis about six months since our ship she cast anchor,
in happy Australia, the immigrant’s home;
and ever since that it’s been nothing bt canker,
and grief and vexation to Paddy Malone.

Chorus
Och! Paddy Malone, will you ever go home?
’twas the thief and an agent that caused you to roam.

With a man, called a squatter, I soon found a place, sirs,
He’d a beard like a goat, ’twas his whiskers, och hone;
And as he spoke out of the hair on his face, sirs,
Swore he liked the appearance of Mr Malone.
He hired me at once to go up to his station,
Saying, pat, in the bush you’ll find yourself at home;
Pat liked the idea, and without hesitation,
Signed his name with a cross, which spelt Paddy Malone.

Och! Paddy Malone, will you ever go home?
‘Twas the thief of an agent that caused you to roam.

Oh, he soon sent me out with my sheep in the bush, sir,
If they ever were bushes, ’twas long before the flood.
So into this big bush one day I went farther,
And when in the middle, got bothered, och hone;
And to find my way out I found it much harder,
And bothered and lost was poor Paddy Malone.

Oh, I soon sat me down, in my sad situation,
And made a neat camp by the side of a log;
And was found the next day by a man from the station,
For I cooeyed and bawled like a bull in a bog.
When I got home, said master, “Pat! Where’s the sheep now?”
Says I, “I don’t know if there’s one here at home.”
He soon took the hint and kicked up such a neat row,
Saying he’d stop the wages of Paddy Malone.

Oh, he soon sent me out with my bullocks and dray, sir,
But we’ll try you with bullocks, brave Paddy Malone.

Oh, he soon sent me out with my bullocks and dray, sir,
A whip like a flail, and such gaites below;
And the brutes, as they looked at me, all seemed to say, sir,
You may try your luck, Pat, but I’m blowed if we’ll go.
Come hither way, Strawberry, gee Blackbird and Dolphin;
Helter and skelter, and up with their backbone;
And the brutes of a kicking set up their behind, sir,
And head over heels went poor Paddy Malone.

Och! Paddy Malone, you made bulls at home,
But the bulls in Australia cowed Paddy Malone.

Oh, I lay all the night where the cursed bulls threw me,
When a man passing by thought he heard me groan;
And as he wiped the dirt off my face, seemed to know me.
Says he, “Ain’t that Pat?” – “Yes, “ says Paddy Malone.
Oh, daer you’re an angel, sent down from heaven, sir,
Oh, no, Pat, but a friend of your own:
And by his advice I came into this town, sir,
And here sits before you brave Paddy Malone.

Och! Paddy Malone, will you ever go home.
’twas a divil of an agent that caused you to roam.