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 life of the rover
From the green basin to the dusty outback
I my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my said: Son,
It's time to rambling, there's work to be done
So they me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And sent me away to the war

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

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

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

Oh those that were living just to survive
In that mad world of blood, and fire
And for ten weary I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled
Then a big Turkish knocked 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 worse than dying

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

collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind and the
Those proud heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Quay
I looked at the where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one waiting for me
To grieve and to and to pity

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

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

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

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