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
Way down upon the Isle of Grain
With the Horseface Toole then I knew the rule
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
I remember the day that the Bear O`Shea
Fell into a concrete stairs
What the Horseface said
when he saw him dead
Well it wasn`t what the rich call prayers
I`m a navvy short was his 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 it has had me bet
With Russian Czech and Pole
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 pride your life don`t join by Christ
With McAlpine`s fusiliers