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The Band Played Waltzing Matilda
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Current song lyrics
When I was a young man I carried my pack<br />And I lived the free life of a rover<br />From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback<br />I waltzed my Matilda all over<br />Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son<br />It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done<br />So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun<br />And they sent me away to the war<br /><br />And the band played Waltzing Matilda<br />As we sailed away from the quay<br />And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers<br />We sailed off to Gallipoli <br /><br />How well I remember that terrible day<br />How the blood stained the sand and the water<br />And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay<br />We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter<br />Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well<br />He showered us with bullets, he rained us with shells<br />And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell<br />Nearly blew us right back to Australia<br /><br />But the band played Waltzing Matilda<br />As we stopped to bury our slain<br />We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs<br />Then we started all over again <br /><br />Now those that were left, well we tried to survive<br />In a mad world of blood, death and fire<br />And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive<br />But around me the corpses piled higher<br />Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit<br />And when I woke up in my hospital bed<br />And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead<br />Never knew there were worse things than dying<br /><br />For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda<br />All around the green bush far and near<br />For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs<br />No more waltzing Matilda for me <br /><br />So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed<br />And they shipped us back home to Australia<br />The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane<br />Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla<br />And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay<br />I looked at the place where my legs used to be<br />And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me<br />To grieve and to mourn and to pity<br /><br />And the band played Waltzing Matilda<br />As they carried us down the gangway<br />But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared<br />Then turned all their faces away <br /><br />And now every April I sit on my porch<br />And I watch the parade pass before me<br />And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march<br />Reliving old dreams of past glory<br />And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore<br />The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war<br />And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"<br />And I ask myself the same question<br /><br />And the band plays Waltzing Matilda<br />And the old men answer to the call<br />But year after year their numbers get fewer<br />Some day no one will march there at all <br /><br />Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda<br />Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me<br />And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong<br />Who'll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?<br /><br />Music/Lyrics: Eric Bogle 1972
New song lyrics
When I was a young man I carried my pack<br />And I lived the free life of a rover<br />From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback<br />I waltzed my Matilda all over<br />Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son<br />It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done<br />So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun<br />And they sent me away to the war<br /><br />And the band played Waltzing Matilda<br />As we sailed away from the quay<br />And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers<br />We sailed off to Gallipoli <br /><br />How well I remember that terrible day<br />How the blood stained the sand and the water<br />And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay<br />We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter<br />Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well<br />He showered us with bullets, he rained us with shells<br />And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell<br />Nearly blew us right back to Australia<br /><br />But the band played Waltzing Matilda<br />As we stopped to bury our slain<br />We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs<br />Then we started all over again <br /><br />Now those that were left, well we tried to survive<br />In a mad world of blood, death and fire<br />And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive<br />But around me the corpses piled higher<br />Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit<br />And when I woke up in my hospital bed<br />And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead<br />Never knew there were worse things than dying<br /><br />For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda<br />All around the green bush far and near<br />For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs<br />No more waltzing Matilda for me <br /><br />So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed<br />And they shipped us back home to Australia<br />The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane<br />Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla<br />And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay<br />I looked at the place where my legs used to be<br />And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me<br />To grieve and to mourn and to pity<br /><br />And the band played Waltzing Matilda<br />As they carried us down the gangway<br />But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared<br />Then turned all their faces away <br /><br />And now every April I sit on my porch<br />And I watch the parade pass before me<br />And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march<br />Reliving old dreams of past glory<br />And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore<br />The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war<br />And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"<br />And I ask myself the same question<br /><br />And the band plays Waltzing Matilda<br />And the old men answer to the call<br />But year after year their numbers get fewer<br />Some day no one will march there at all <br /><br />Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda<br />Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me<br />And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong<br />Who'll come-a-waltzing Matilda with me?<br /><br />Music/Lyrics: Eric Bogle 1972
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