Key: A
Introduction:
A D A E A
All down the glen came McAlpines men with their shovels slung behind them
A D
'Twas in the pub that they drank their sup and up in the spike you'll find them
A D
They sweated blood and they washed down mud with pints and quarts of beer
A D A E A
And now we're on the road again with McAlpine's Fusiliers
A D A E A
I stripped to the skin with Darkie Flynn way down upon the Isle of Grain
D
With the horsefaced Toole, 'cos I knew the rule, no money if you stopped for rain.
A D
McAlpine's God was a well filled hod, your shoulders cut to bits and seared,
A D A E A
And woe to he who went to look for tea with McAlpine's Fusiliers
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I remember the day that Bear O'Shea fell into a concrete stairs.
A D
What Horseface said when he saw him dead well it wasn't what the rich called prayers.
A D
I'm a navvy short was the one retort that reached unto my ears
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When the going is rough well you must be tough with McAlpine's Fusiliers
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I've worked 'til the sweat has had'n me bet, with Russian, Czech and Pole.
A D
On shuddering jams up at the hydro dams or underneath the Thames in a hole.
A D
I've grabbed it hard and I've got me cards and many a ganger's fist across me ears.
A D A E A
If you pride your life don't join by Christ, with McAlpine's Fusiliers