Songtext von The Helm of Ned Kelly

like a fist clutching bread just to hoard and withhold like the grain that they locked in the silo we'll be eating soup of stone til what we grow is what we own, but we won't steal from the land what's freely given tear up the deeds to the land, throw the debts into the furnace, debts to god to the banks and to the landlord don your armor don your helm, which was forged from an old plows blade train your horses round and aim your guns at Sydney I was born from a seed that was swallowed by a mad woman from the lips and the tongue of ceridwen I had took just a taste that had splashed up from the black kettle in the waves neither drowned nor aged a day down their lying in the brush was one bloody tethered horse, and one detective in the service of the crown even theough we're just one pistol against an army of policemen I insist that we are many and they are few It was on Van Dieman's land where your father came in transport chained like cattle to the deck of a ship held hostage in a word, stolen from the shores of erin south australia bound in bondage of the queen's men