Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Waltzing Matilda, Eric Bogle

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

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

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

And the band Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our
Well we buried and the Turks buried theirs
it started all over again

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

Oh no I'll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man both legs
No more waltzing 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 the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs to be
And thank there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to

And the Band played Matilda
When they us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just there and stared
Then they turned all their 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, stiff and
Those weary old of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they for?"
And I ask myself the question

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

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