Peatbog Soldiers, The Traditional 
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 
We are the peatbog soldiers Marching with our spades to the moor 
Up and down the guards are pacing No one, no one can get through Flight would mean a sure death facing Guns and barbed wire greet our view 
We are the peatbog soldiers Marching with our spades to the moor 
But for us there is no complaining Winter will in time be past One day we will cry rejoicing "Homeland dear, you're mine at last" 
Then will the peatbog soldiers March no more with their spades to the moor  

Irish Song Lyrics 
from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk