Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, Bogle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the played Waltzing Matilda
When they carried us down the
Oh cheered, they just stood there and stared
they turned all their faces away

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

And the band plays Waltzing
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 come Matilda with me?
And ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
So come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?