Chords for McAlpine's Fusiliers

[D] .
Post down the [G] glen came McAlpine's men, [D] with their [A] shovels slung [D] behind them.
Twas in the [G] pub they drank the sub, and up in [D] the [G] spike you'll find them.
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[D] They sweated blood, and they [G] washed out mud, with pints [D] and quarts [G] of beer.
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[D] And now we're up [G] the road again, [D] with [A] McAlpine's [D] fusiliers.
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Ice gripped down the skin [G] with darkie flint, [D] down in [A] the [D] isle of Grimm.
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With horse face toll, [G] sure I know the rule, no money [D] if you stop [G] for rain.
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[D] McAlpine's God was so well [G] felt hot, your shoulders [D] cut a bit, [G] sun seared.
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[D] And woe to he who [G] went to the party, [D] was [A] McAlpine's [D] fusiliers.
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[Bm] O'er the wheel, o'er the wheel, o'er the wheel.
[D] I remember the day [G] when the barrow's shade [D] fell into [A] a [D] concrete stair.
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What the horse face said [G] when he found him dead, but it wasn't [D] what the rich [G] call prayers.
[D] I'm an abbey shart, was the one [G].
retard that reached [D] out to [G] my ears.
And [D] when the gun gets rough, [G] well you must be tough, [D] with [A] McAlpine's [D] .
fusiliers.
[Bm] O'er the wheel, o'er the wheel, o'er the wheel.
O'er the wheel, o'er [D] the [G] .
[D] [A] [D] .
[G] .
[D] [A] [D] .
wheel, o'er the wheel.
I worked till the sweat [G] well had me fed, [D] with [A] rushes, jacks [D] and moles.
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Hot shuddering jams in the high [G] dread dows, or underneath [D] the Thames [G] in a hole.
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[D] I grafted hard [G] and I got me cards, and many a [D] ganger's fist [G] across me ears.
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[D] If you value your life, [G] well don't join my Christ, [D] with [A] McAlpine's [D] fusiliers.
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If you value your life, [G] well don't join my Christ, [D] with [A] McAlpine's [D] fusiliers.
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