McAlpine's Fusileers Songtext - Neck

McAlpine's Fusileers - Neck

‘Twas down the glen came McAlpine’s men
With their shovels slung behind them
Ah-‘twas in the pub that they drank the sub
Or down in the spike you’ll find them
Well 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 Fusileers!
I stripped to the skin with Darkie Finn
Way down upon The Isle of Grain
With Horse-face Toole
I learnt the rule:
No money if you stop for rain!
For McAlpines’ God is a well-filled hod
Your shoulders cut-to-bits and seared
And woe to he who went to look for tea!
With McAlpine’s Fusileers!
I remember the day that The Bear O’Shea
Fell into a concrete stairs
What Horse-Face said when he saw him dead:
It wasn’t what The Rich call prayers!
“I’m a navvy short!” was the one retort
That fell unto my ears
When the going is rough then you must be tough!
With McAlpine’s Fusileers!
I worked ‘til the sweat near had me bet
With Russian, Czech and Pole
At shuttering jams up in the hydro-dams
Or underneath The Thames in a hole!
I’ve grafted hard, and I’ve got me cards
And many a gangers’ fist across me ears
So if you pride your life, don’t join by Christ
With McAlpines Fusileers!


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