Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, artist - The Dubliners.
Date of issue: 04.03.2009
Song language: English
And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda |
Now when I was a young man I carried me pack |
And I lived the free life of the rover |
From the Murray’s green basin to the dusty outback |
Well, I waltzed my Matilda all over |
Then in 1915, my country said, «Son |
It’s time you stop ramblin', there’s work to be done.» |
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun |
And they marched me away to the war |
And the band played «Waltzing Matilda,» |
As the ship pulled away from the quay |
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears |
We sailed off for Gallipoli |
And how well I remember that terrible day |
How our blood stained the sand and the water; |
And of how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay |
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter |
Johnny Turk, he was waitin', he primed himself well; |
He showered us with bullets, and he rained us with shell -- |
And in five minutes flat, he’d blown us all to hell |
Nearly blew us right back to Australia |
But the band played «Waltzing Matilda,» |
When we stopped to bury our slain |
Well, we buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs |
Then we started all over again |
And those that were left, well, we tried to survive |
In that mad world of blood, death and fire |
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive |
Though around me the corpses piled higher |
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head |
And when I woke up in me hospital bed |
And saw what it had done, well, I wished I was dead -- |
Never knew there was worse things than dying |
For I’ll go no more «Waltzing Matilda,» |
All around the green bush far and free -- |
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs |
No more «Waltzing Matilda» for me |
So they gathered the crippled, the wounded, the maimed |
And they shipped us back home to Australia |
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane |
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla |
And as our ship sailed into Circular Quay |
I looked at the place where me legs used to be |
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me |
To grieve, to mourn and to pity |
But the band played «Waltzing Matilda,» |
As they carried us down the gangway |
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared |
Then they turned all their faces away |
And so now every April, I sit on my porch |
And I watch the parade pass before me |
And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march |
Reviving old dreams of past glory |
And the old men march slowly, all bones stiff and sore |
They’re tired old heroes from a forgotten war |
And the young people ask «What are they marching for?» |
And I ask meself the same question |
But the band plays «Waltzing Matilda,» |
And the old men still answer the call |
But as year follows year, more old men disappear |
Someday, no one will march there at all |
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda |
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me? |
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong |
Who’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me? |