Stone by stone we fetch from the mighty quarry

God knows, how we sweat and nobody seems to worry

our back is sore and skins in our hands has peeled off

my friend, he died last night in the dreadful cough.

work hard or I make sure you will really be sick

We have to protect your country from the coming war:"

Me I just stand and on the ugly-faced soldier pore.

Each day the fort is rising to the gloomy sky

each stone we fit makes the walls so high

and down the road the cannons come by horse

And on the rising cliffs on the nothern shore

we build the towers to be a sea decor

to thoose British and French and their great armada

and when they come teh guns explode, Russians screams; "Da, da!"

We just standing there, looking at the destruction

stone are falling, to us it seems like a frightful seduction

all our hard and painful work with sweat and tears are in vain

all this smooth and well-builded walls are covered with bloodstain.

Thick smoke and smell of powder is filling the air

when from our shelter, tired and dirty, out we dare

through the mist noone see, gone is Russian, French and Brit

by the ruined walls my ungly-faced soldier sit.

Life is gone and I slowly close his open eyes of blue

what purpose of this waste, we have not got a clue

we should be proud but know only history will be told