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Paul Robeson

"The Peat Bog Soldiers" (karaoke)

"The Peat-Bog Soldiers" (sheet music)


Far and wide, as the eye can wander,
Heath and moor 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.

Up and down, the guards are pacing;
No one, no one can go through;
Held here means no escaping;
Guns and barbed wire meet our view.
We are the peat-bog soldiers,
Marching with our spades to the moor.

Still, for us, there is no complaining;
Winter will in time be past;
One day we shall cry, rejoicing:
"Homeland, dear, you're ours at last."
Then, no peat-bog soldiers
Will march with their spades to the moor.

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