Lyrics:

A Sergeant and three constables rode out from Mansfield town
Near the end of last October for to hunt the Kellys down;
They headed for the Wombat Hills and thought it quite a lark
To be camped along the borders of a creek called Stringybark

Scanlan and the sergeant rode away to search the scrub
Leaving McIntyre and Lonigan in camp to cook the grub
Ned Kelly and his comrades came to take a nearer look
For being short of flour they wished to interview the cook

Both troopers at a stump alone they were well pleased to see
Watching as the billie boiled to make their pints of tea;
They joked and chatted gaily never thinking of alarm
Till they heard the dreaded cry behind, "Bail up, throw down your arms!"

The traps they started wildly, Mac then firmly stood
While Lonigan made tracks to gain the cover of the wood
Brave Kelly muttered sadly as he loaded up his gun
"Oh, what a flaming pity that the bastard tried to run."

Later in the afternoon the sergeant and his mate
Came riding blindly through the bush to meet a cruel fate
"The Kellys have the drop on you!" cried McIntyre aloud
But the troopers thought it was a joke and sat their horses proud

Trooper Scanlan made a move his rifle to unsling
But to his heart a bullet sped and death was in its sting;
Then Kennedy leapt from his mount and ran for cover near
And bravely fought 'em to the last, for all that he held dear

McIntyre, his life at stake, rode off to Mansfield town
He broke the news that made men vow to shoot the Kellys down
So from that hour the Kelly gang was hunted far and wide
Until the day they died