Paddy Goes To Holyhead

The Peat Bog Soldiers

Paddy Goes To Holyhead


Far and wide as the eye can wander
Heath and bog are everywhere
Not a bird sings out to cheer us
Oaks are standing gaunt and bare

Up and down the guards are pacing
No one, no one can go through
Flight would mean a sure death facing
Guns and barbed-wire greet our view

But for is there is no complaining
Winter will in time be past
One day we shall cry rejoicing
"Homeland, dear, you´re mine at last"

We are the Peat Bog Soldiers
We´re marching with our spades to the bog

Then will the Peat Bog Soldiers
March no more with the spades to the bog