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The Played Waltzing Matilda, Eric Bogle

When I was a man I carried me pack
And I the free life of the rover
the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country Son,
It's time to rambling, there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they me a gun
And they sent me to the war

And the band played Waltzing
When the pulled away from the quay
And all the tears, flag waving and cheers
We off for Gallipoli

It well I remember terrible day
When our blood stained the and the water
And how in hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed well
He us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all to hell
He nearly blew us home to Australia

And the band played Matilda
When we stopped to our slain
Well we ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all again

Oh those that were living just to survive
In mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself
around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell me arse over head
And I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw it had done, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse than dying

Oh no I'll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs legs
No waltzing Matilda for me

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the
And they shipped us back home to
The armless, the legless, the blind and the
proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs to be
And thank Christ there was no one waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to

And the Band played Waltzing
they carried us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and
they turned all their faces away

Now every April I sit on my
And I watch the parade before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly march
their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, and worn
weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are marching for?"
And I ask the same question

And the band Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer the call
But year after year, their get fewer
Someday, no one march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Matilda
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the
So who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda me?