Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, Bogle

When I was a young man I me pack
And I lived the free of the rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty
I waltzed my all over
Then in my country said: 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 they sent me to the war

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the Band Waltzing Matilda
they 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 watch the parade pass me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they
Renewing their dreams of past
I see the old men all tired, stiff and
Those weary old heroes of a war
And the young ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same

And the band Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the
But year after year, their get fewer
Someday, no one will 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 Matilda with me?