Poor Ned, you're better off dead At least you'll get some peace of mind You're out on the track They're right on your back Boy they're 'gonna hang you high ♪ Eighteen hundred and seventy eight Was the year I remember so well They put my father in an early grave Slung my mother in gaol Now I don't know what's right or wrong But they hung Christ on nails Six kids at home and two still on the breast They wouldn't even give her bail Poor Ned, you're better off dead At least you'll get some peace of mind You're out on the track They're right on your back Boy, they're 'gonna hang you high You know I wrote a letter 'Bout Stringy-Bark Creek So they would understand That I might be a bushranger But I'm not a murdering man I didn't want to shoot Kennedy Or that copper Lonnigan He alone could have saved his life By throwing down his gun Poor Ned, you're better off dead At least you'll get some peace of mind You're out on the track They're right on your back Boy, they're 'gonna hang you high ♪ You know they took Ned Kelly And they hung him in the Melbourne gaol He fought so very bravely Dressed in iron mail And no man single-handed Can hope to break the bars It's a thousand like Ned Kelly Who'll hoist the flag of stars Poor Ned, you're better off dead At least you'll get some peace of mind You're out on the track They're right on your back Boy, they're 'gonna hang you high