Paroles McAlpine's Fusiliers de Dubliners (The)

Dubliners (The)
  • 0.0Vous n'aimez pas les paroles de Dubliners (The)loading
  • Note 0.0/5 basée sur 0 avis.
  • Artiste: Dubliners (The)23944
  • Chanson: McAlpine's Fusiliers
  • Langue:

Les chansons similaires

McAlpine's Fusiliers de The Dubliners

Spoken: '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...

Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore de Battlefield Band (The)

From Dairy'e' we sailed away on the 23rd of May We were boarded by a pleasant crew all bound for Americ'a' Fresh water there we did take on 5000 gallons or more in case we ran short going New York...

Yesterday's Men de Celtic Thunder

Twas Joey the weasel that gave us the wire, They were closing our factory down Though we didn't believe him and we called him a liar, The redundancy letters came round As we read them in silence,...

Paddy Wagon Rape de X-Cops

Out on the streets, I'm looking for some crack I got a pipe in my mouth and a body in the back So I call the paddy wagon and ram it up her shitter Paddy wagon rape, I can't get a date Paddy wagon rape,...

Bring Us Pints Of Beer de Korpiklaani

Bring us pints of beer If you dont't drink, you can leave Bring us pints of beer We gonna drink now and here We've been around the world We've devoured endless roads We've seen many towns, Can't remember...

Textes et Paroles de McAlpine's Fusiliers




Spoken:
'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
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
I come from county Kerry, the land of eggs and bacon
And if you think I'll eat your fish and chips, oh dear, then you're mistaken...

Break out singing:
As down the glen came McAlpine's men
With their shovels slung behind them
It was in the pub that they drank their sub
Or down in the spike you'll find them
We sweated blood and we washed down mud
With quarts and pints of beer
But now we're on the road again with McAlpine's Fusiliers

I stripped to the skin with Darky Finn
Way down upon the Isle of Grain
With Horseface Toole I learned the rule
No money if you stop for rain
For McAlpine's god is a well filled hod
Your shoulders cut to bits and seared
And woe to he who looks for tea with McAlpine's Fusiliers

I remember the day that the Bear O'Shea
Fell into a concrete stairs
What 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 near had me bet
With Russian, Czech and Pole
At shuttering jams up in the Hydro Dams
or underneath the Thames in a hole
I grafted hard and I 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!

N'hésitez pas à faire une recherche de paroles d'une chanson dont vous ne connaissez qu'un morceau de texte avec notre moteur de paroles et chansons