Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, Eric

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

And the band Waltzing Matilda
When the ship pulled from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag and cheers
We off for Gallipoli

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

And the played Waltzing Matilda
When we to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the buried theirs
Then it started all again

Oh those that were living just tried to
In mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I myself alive
While around me the piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell me arse over head
And when I awoke in me bed
And saw what it had done, I I was dead
I never knew there was things 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 waltzing Matilda for me

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

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

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

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

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