Lyrics
Son oh son what have you done
You're bound for Botany Bay
Now come all you wild and you reckless youths wherever that you be
I would have you quit night-walking and shun bad company
I was born and bred in Whitby town and raised up honestly
Until I became a sporting lad which proved my destiny
I broke into some lady's house about the hour of three
Two peelers stood behind the door and they got quick hold of me
It bein' at the March assizes the judge to me did say
Now the jury has found you guilty, lad, you must go to Botany Bay
And it's
Oh to see me aged father a-trembling at the bar
Likewise my own dear mother, she 's a-tearing her grey hair
Crying
It bein' on the twenty-third of March from England bore away
And as we sailed down the Humber we heard the sailors there
Crying
Boys oh boys there are no joys
Down there in Botany Bay
Now there is a girl in Whitby town, a girl I love so well
And if ever I get me liberty it's with her I will dwell
And it's
The Whitby Lad is on the Watersons' Yorkshire Garland. From the sleeve notes-
The Whitby Lad
A big family of highwaymen and poacher songs interbred with a family of
transportation songs to produce a large number of offspring all resembling each
Son oh son what have you done
You're bound for Botany Bay
Now come all you wild and you reckless youths wherever that you be
I would have you quit night-walking and shun bad company
I was born and bred in Whitby town and raised up honestly
Until I became a sporting lad which proved my destiny
I broke into some lady's house about the hour of three
Two peelers stood behind the door and they got quick hold of me
It bein' at the March assizes the judge to me did say
Now the jury has found you guilty, lad, you must go to Botany Bay
And it's
Oh to see me aged father a-trembling at the bar
Likewise my own dear mother, she 's a-tearing her grey hair
Crying
It bein' on the twenty-third of March from England bore away
And as we sailed down the Humber we heard the sailors there
Crying
Boys oh boys there are no joys
Down there in Botany Bay
Now there is a girl in Whitby town, a girl I love so well
And if ever I get me liberty it's with her I will dwell
And it's
The Whitby Lad is on the Watersons' Yorkshire Garland. From the sleeve notes-
The Whitby Lad
A big family of highwaymen and poacher songs interbred with a family of
transportation songs to produce a large number of offspring all resembling each
