Mc Alpine's Fusiliers

The craic was good in Cricklewood and they wouldn't leave the Crown

With glasses flying and Biddys crying 'cause Paddy was going to town

Her mother dear(?) I'm over here and i'm never going back

What keeps me here is the reek o' beer, the women and the craic

As down the glen came McAlpine's men

With their shovels slung behind them

It was in the pub that they drank their 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 Darky Finn

Way down on the Isle of Grain

With Horseface Toole,well,you knew the rules

No money if you stop for rain

McAlpine's god was a well filled hod

Your shoulders cut to bits and seared

And woe to he that 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,

Well it wasn't what the rich call prayers

"I'm a navvy short," was the one retort

That reached unto my ears

When the going is rough, well you must be tough

with McAlpine's Fusiliers

I've worked till 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 grafted hard and I got me cards

and many a ganger's fist across me ears

If you pride your life,well , don't work and scr，

with McAlpine's Fusiliers!

If you pride your life,well , don't join and scr,

with McAlpine's Fusiliers!