Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, Eric

When I was a man I carried me pack
And I the free life of the rover
the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all
Then in 1915 my said: Son,
It's time to stop rambling, work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and gave me a gun
And they sent me to the war

And the band played Waltzing
When the ship pulled away the quay
And amid all the tears, flag waving and
We sailed off for

It well I remember terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the
And how in that hell they Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the
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 us back home to Australia

And the played Waltzing Matilda
we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks 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 I kept myself alive
around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell me arse over head
And when I in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I I was dead
I never knew was worse things than dying

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

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

And the played Waltzing Matilda
they carried us down the gangway
Oh cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all 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 dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and
Those weary old heroes of a war
And the young people ask "What are marching for?"
And I ask myself the same

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

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