| 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 peat bog soldiers
|
| Marching with our spades to the moor
|
| We are the peat bog soldiers
|
| Marching with our spades to the moor
|
| Up and down the guards are marching
|
| No one, no one can get through
|
| Flight would mean a sure death facing
|
| Guns and barbed wire block our view
|
| We are the peat bog soldiers
|
| Marching with our spades to the moor
|
| We are the peat bog soldiers
|
| Marching with our spades to the moor
|
| But for us there is no complaining
|
| Winter will in time be past
|
| One day we shall rise rejoicing
|
| Homeland, dear, you’re mine at last
|
| No more the peat bog soldiers
|
| Will march with our spades to the moor
|
| No more the peat bog soldiers
|
| Will march with our spades to the moor |