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