Lyrics The Band Played Waltzing Matilda - The Pogues

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

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
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915, the 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 sent me away to the war
And the band played «Waltzing Matilda,»
As our ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving, and tears
We sailed off to 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 ready, he primed himself well;
He chased 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 my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, well, and 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 near--
To hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more «Waltzing Matilda» for me
So they collected the cripples;
the wounded, and maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, 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 no-one there waiting for me
To grieve, to mourn and to pity
And the band played «Waltzing Matilda,»
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
And they turned all their faces away
And now every April, I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing old dreams and past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
They’re tired old men 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 answer the call
But as year by year, the numbers get fewer
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?