Mcalpines Fusiliers - The High Kings

As down the glen came McAlpine’s men

With their shovels slung behind them

'Twas in the pub 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 Darky Flynn

Down upon the Isle of Grain

With the Horseface Toole, sure I 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 who to looks for tea

With McAlpine’s fusiliers

Hoo-wheey-ho

Hooo-ho

Hoo-wheey-ho

Hooo-ho

I remember the day when the Bear O’Shea

Fell into a concrete stairs

What the Horseface said, when he found 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

Hoo-wheey-ho

Hooo-ho

Hoo-wheey-ho

Hooo-ho

Hoo-wheey-ho

Hooo-ho

Hoo-wheey-ho

Hooo-ho

I’ve worked till the sweat when it had me bet

With Russians, Czechs and Poles

On shuddering jams up in the hydro dams

Or underneath the Thames in a hole

I grafted hard and I’ve got me cards

And many a ganger’s fist across me ears

If you value your life, well don’t join by Christ

With McAlpine’s fusiliers

If you value your life, well don’t join by Christ

With McAlpine’s fusiliers