Mcalpines Fusiliers Cifras

McAlpines Fusiliers - the Dubliners
Lyrics: Dominic Behan
 
Taken from the version on the album Finnegans Wake and videos of Dubliners
performances.
 
Original Key: A
 
[Intro]
N.C.
'Twas in the year of 'thirty-nine, when the sky was full of lead
When Hitler was heading for Poland, and Paddy for Holyhead
Come all you pincher laddies, and you long-distance men
Don't ever work for McAlpine, for Wimpey, or John Laing
For you'll stand behind a mixer, until your skin is turned to tan
And they'll say, Good on you, Paddy, with your boat fare in your hand
Oh, the craic was good in Cricklewood, and they wouldn't leave the Crown
With glasses flying and Biddys crying 'cause Paddy was going to town
Oh mother dear, I'm over here and I'm never coming back
What keeps me here, is the reek o' beer, the ladies and the craic
 
[Verse 1]
     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 sub 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
 
[Verse 2]
  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
 
[Verse 3]
    A                   D                 A     E        A
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
         A                         D                    A        E     A
When the going is rough, well, you must be tough with McAlpine's Fusiliers
 
[Instrumental Break]
A   D   A  E  A
A       D
A       D
A   D   A  E  A
 
[Verse 4]
     A                         D                  A        E         A
I've worked 'til the sweat has had'n me bet, with Russian, Czech and Pole
A                            D
On shuttering jams up at the hydro dams or underneath the Thames in a hole
     A                     D
I've grafted 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
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