Neck - Mcalpine's Fusileers lyrics

‘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!