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Peat bog soldiers

1. 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.
We're marching with our spades,
To the bog.


2. 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.

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

Then will the peat bog soldiers,
March no more with spades,
To the bog.