Testo And the band played waltzing matilda John Williamson

And the band played waltzing matilda

When I was a young man I carried a pack
I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray's green basin till the dusty outback
I waltzed my matilda right over

Then in nineteen fifteen, the country said son
There's no time for roamin' there's work to be done
And 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 the ship pulled away from the quay
And amidst all the cheers, the flag waving and tears
We set off for Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter

Johnny Turkey was waiting, he primed himself well
Showered us with bullets and he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat, well he blew us to hell
He nearly blew us right back to Australia

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again

So those who were left just tried to survive
In a mad world of blood and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
As the corpses around me piled higher

Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in the hospital bed
I saw what it had done and I wished I was dead
Then I knew there were worse things than dying

And I'll go no more Waltzing Matilda
All through the green bush far and free
Coz to hunt and tent peg
A man needs both legs
No more waltzing matilda for me

They collected the crippled, the wounded, the maimed
Shipped us all back to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind and insane
The brave wounded heroes of Suvla Bay

And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And I thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To mourn and to grieve and to pity

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
Nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on the porch
As I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comerades, how proudly they march
Reviving old dreams and past glories

But the old men march slowly, bones stiff and sore
Tired old men from a tired old war
And the young people ask 'what are they marching for'
And I ask myself the same question

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As the old men still answer the call
Year after year more old men disappear
Soon none of them will march there at all