Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Waltzing Matilda, Eric Bogle

I was a young man I carried me pack
And I the free life of the rover
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 gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they me away to the war

And the band played Matilda
the ship pulled away from the quay
And amid all the tears, waving and cheers
We sailed off for

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

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

Oh no more 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 the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the and the insane
Those proud wounded of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular
I looked at the place me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one there for me
To and to mourn and to pity

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

Now April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass 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 young ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same

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

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