Luyện nghe bài hát The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Band Played Matilda, Eric Bogle

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

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

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

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

Oh those that were living just tried to
In that mad world of blood, death and
And for ten weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse head
And I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I I was dead
I knew there 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 needs legs
No waltzing Matilda for me

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the
And they shipped us back 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 was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to and to pity

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

Now every April I sit on my
And I watch the pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they
Renewing their of past glories
I see the old men all tired, and worn
weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the question

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

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