McAlpine's Fusiliers Songtext

von Patsy Watchorn

As down the glen came McAlpine's men
With their shovels slung behind them
'Twas in the pub that they drank their sub
And up on the the spike you'll find them
They sweated blood and they washed down mud
With pints and quarts of beer
And now we're on the road again
With McAlpine's Fusiliers

I stripped to the skin with Darky Finn
Way down upon the Isle of Grain
With Horseface Toole sure we new the rule
No money if you stopped for rain
For McAlpine's god was a well filled hod
With your shoulders cut to bits and seared
And woe to he who looks for tea with
McAlpine's Fusiliers

I remember the day that the Bear O'Shea
Fell into a concrete stairs
What Horseface said, when he saw him dead
It wasn't what the rich call prayers
'I'm a navvy short' was his one retort
That reached unto my ears
When the going is rough, ah you must be tough
With McAlpine's Fusiliers

I've worked till the sweat it had me bet
With Russian, Czech and Pole
At shuttering jams up in the hydro dams
Or underneath the Thames in a hole
I grafted hard and I've got me cards
And many a ganger's fist across me ears
If you pride your life, don't join, by Christ,
With McAlpine's Fusiliers.