About four years ago I was digging the land \\ With me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand \\ Says I to me self, what a pity to see,\\ Such a fine strapping lad footing turf round Tralee \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ Wid me too ra na nya with me too ra na nya, \\ Wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya \\} Well I buttered me brogues, an shook hands with me spade, \\ An the way down the road like a dashing young blade \\ When up comes a sergeant an he asks me to list, \\ 'Arra, sergeant a gra, stick a bob in me fist' \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } Well here is a shilling as I got no more \\ When you get to headquarters you'll get half a score \\ And a quick strucking mean said the sergeant good bye \\ You'd not wish to be quarted neither would die \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } Now the first thing they gave me it was a red coat, \\ With a wide strap of leather to tie round me throat \\ And the next thing they gave me I asked what was that, \\ And they told me it was a cockade for me hat \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } An' the next thing they gave me they called it a gun \\ With powder an ball an' a place for me thumb \\ Well first it fire spat and then she spewed smoke, \\ An' they gave me out shoulders such a hell of a stroke \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } Well the first place they sent me was down to the sea, \\ On the board of a warship bound for the Crimea \\ Three sticks in the middle all rowled round with sheets, \\ Lord, she walked on the water without any feet \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } When at Balaclava we landed quite sound, \\ Cold, wet and hungry we lay on the ground \\ Next morning for action the bugle did call, \\ And we had a hot breakfast of powder and ball \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } Well we fought at the Alma, likewise Inkermann, \\ But the Russians they whaled us at the Redan \\ In scalin' the walls there meself lost an eye, \\ And a big Russian bullet ran off with me thigh \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } Well 'tis off there we lay stretched upon the cold ground, \\ 'Twas heads, legs and arms were all scattered around \\ I wished that me mam me cleaveens were nigh, \\ So they'd bury me decent and gave a loud cry \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ } Well they brought me a doctor and he soon staunched wi' blood, \\ And he made me a great elegant leg made of wood \\ They gave me a medal and ten pence a day, \\ So contented with Sheela, I'll live on half pay \\ \textit{[Chorus] \\ }