Come all ye Auckland sailor lads, a warning take from me,
And never sail with Matheson across the briny sea;
You may sail the ocean o'er and o'er and never find one so mean,
As the captian of the Oceola, that loft brigatine.
Roll up me humble bluey* as from town to town we steer,
I'm a reight good hearty fellow and I likes me lager beer,
I'm a reigh dood hearty fellow and I likes me whisky clear,
I'm a ramblin rake of poverty, I'm a sone of a gun for beer.
Standing on the quarter deck, sou'wester buttoned down,
Taking observtions of all things going around;
He wears an old blue jersey with his elbows sticking through,
And he is a terrible mean man for he starves his noble crew.
Oh, you ought to see his ugly mug when things don't suit him well,
As black as any riding boot worn by the Earl of hell;
Oh, his head is like a pumpkin and his belly is like a whale,
And the holes in his snout when well rigged out would mke Mt. Eden jail.
Now Casey had two lawyers, they were noble of fame,
And Matheson had two lawyers and they were just the same;
The first place that he did appear was at teh High St. jail,
He was tried and remanded and they let him out on bail.
The next place that he did appear was Constitution Hill,
And the jury being Freemasons, brought in on true bill;
And as he walks along the street the people on him do boo;
There goes notorious Matheson who starves his noble crew.
Now Matheson had some money, about five hundred pounds,
No one ever found it, fore he hid it in the ground;
And when he comes ashore me boys, you'll find him snooping around,
He is lookinf for that money he has hidden in the ground.

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