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 overThen 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 warAnd 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 GallipoliHow 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 slaughterJohnny 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 AustraliaAnd 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 againSo 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 higherThen 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 dyingAnd 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 meThey 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 BayAnd 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 pityAnd the band played Waltzing Matilda

As they carried us down the gangway

Nobody cheered, they just stood and stared

Then turned all their faces awayAnd 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 gloriesBut 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 questionAnd 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

Songwriters

ERIC BOGLEPublished by

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group