Down the glen came McAlpine's men
With their shovels slung behind them
It was in the pub that they drank the sub
And up in 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 my friend Flynn
Way down in the Isle of Grain
Horseface Toole said, "You knew the rule
No money if you stop for rain"
McAlpine's God was a well filled hod
With his shoulders cut to bits and seared
And woe to he who drinks a 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
Well, it wasn't what the rich call prayers
I'm a navvy short was the one retort
Screaming unto me ears
When the going gets rough, well you must be tough
With McAlpine's fusiliers
♪
I've worked 'til the sweat has had me bet
With Russians, Czechs and Poles
On shuddering jams up in the hydro dams
Or underneath the Thames in a hole
Yes, I've grafted hard and I've held me cards
And many a ganger's fist across me ears
Oh if you pride your life, don't you join by Christ
With McAlpine's fusiliers