As down the glen rode McAlpine's men
With their shovels slung behind them
'Twas in the pub that they drank their sub
And it's up in the spike you will find them

Well they sweated blood and washed down mud
With pints and quarts of beer
And now we are on the road again
God damned and blast their ears

I stripped to the skin with Darky Flynn
Down upon the Isle of Grain
With Horseface Toole now I knew the rule
No bonus if you stop for rain

McAlpine's God was a well filled hod
Your shoulders cut to bits and seared
And woe to he went to look for tea
With McAlpine's fusiliers

I've worked till sweat has me bet
With Russian, Czech, and Pole
On shudderin' jams up in the hydro dams
Or down below the Thames in a hole

I've grafted hard and got me cards
And many's the ganger's fist across me ears
Well, when the going is rough, you must be tough
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 the one retort
That reached unto my ears
So if ya pride your life, don't join by Christ
With McAlpine's fusiliers