Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, Eric

I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free of the rover
From the green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my all over
Then in 1915 my country Son,
time to stop rambling, there's work to be done
So gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And sent me away to the war

And the played Waltzing Matilda
When the ship away from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag and cheers
We sailed off for

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

And the band played Waltzing
When we to bury our slain
we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it all over again

Oh those that were just tried to survive
In that mad of blood, death and fire
And for ten weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me over head
And when I awoke in me bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was
I never knew there was worse than dying

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

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the
And they shipped us home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the and the insane
Those wounded heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular
I at the place where me legs used to be
And thank there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to

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

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

And the plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the
But year year, their numbers get fewer
Someday, no one will march at all

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