Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Waltzing Matilda, Eric Bogle

When I was a young man I carried me
And I lived the free life of the
From the Murray's green to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all
Then in 1915 my said: 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 sent me to the war

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

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

And the band Waltzing Matilda
we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the buried theirs
Then it all over again

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

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

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

And the Band played Waltzing
When they carried us down the
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then they turned all faces away

Now every April I sit on my
And I watch the parade before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they
their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and
weary old heroes of a forgotten 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 march at all

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