The Death of Billy Stapleton

In the shadow of Goulbourn Gaol, against the bloodshed of violence, Billy stood alone,

Armed with his gun, the packs on the run, the line still to be drawn

With a Gun in his hand, Billy faced that Spirit down.

Three stands I have known Billy Stapleton to make,

The first took his life.

Those who did that deal, don’t deserve their renown

Deep in the Hawkesbury, between fire and water, Billy led the packs against that spirit born,

At the call of the lone Hunter, whose pack mates had fallen, the line would be drawn

With a Gun his in hand, Billy shot that Spirit down.

Three stands I have known Billy Stapleton to make,

The first took his life.

Those who did that deal, don’t deserve their renown

In his territory of Canberra, when fools do deals, the Spirit Bastard is born,

Billy Stapleton said, that they had passed the line, I’ll face that Bastard, my Gun drawn

With a Gun in his hand, Billy failed, did not gun that Horror down.

Three stands I have known Billy Stapleton to make,

The first took his life.

Those who did that deal, don’t deserve their renown

Deep in the night, where the Wolves howl, that Bastard made Billy Stapleton’s stand his last

With botched deal done, the child pursued its mind, no line left to be drawn

And, those who did that deal, surely brought Billy Stapleton down

Three stands I have known Billy Stapleton to make,

The first took his life.

Those who did that deal, don’t deserve their renown