Pogues - And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda Lyrics
When I was a young man I carried my packAnd I lived the free life of a roverFrom the murrays green basin to the dusty outbackI waltzed my matilda all overThen in nineteen fifteen my country said sonIts time to stop rambling cause theres work to beDoneSo they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gunAnd they sent me away to the warAnd the band played waltzing matildaAs we sailed away from the quayAnd amidst all the tears and the shouts and theCheersWe sailed off to gallipoliHow well I remember that terrible day<when> the blood stained the sand and the waterAnd how in that hell that they called suvla bayWe were butchered like lambs at the slaughterJohnny turk he was ready, he primed himself wellHe <showered> us with bullets, he rained us withShellsAnd in five minutes flat hed blown us all to hellNearly blew us right back to australiaBut the band played waltzing matildaAs we stopped to bury our slainAnd we buried ours and the turks buried theirsThen <it> started all over againNow those <who were living did their best to survive>In <that> mad world of blood, death and fireAnd for <seven long> weeks I kept myself alive<while the corpses around me piled higher>Then a big turkish shell knocked me arse over titAnd when I woke up in my hospital bedAnd saw what it had done, <christ> I wished I wasDeadNever knew there were worse things than dying<and> no more Ill go waltzing matilda<to> the green <bushes so> far and nearFor to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legsNo more waltzing matilda for meSo they collected the cripples, the wounded <and>MaimedAnd they shipped us back home to australia<the legless, the armless>, the blind <and> insaneThose proud wounded heroes of suvlaAnd as our ship pulled into circular quayI looked at the place where <me> legs used to beAnd thank christ there was nobody waiting for meTo grieve and to mourn and to pityAnd the band played waltzing matildaAs they carried us down the gangwayBut nobody cheered, they just stood and stared<and they> turned all their faces awayAnd now every april I sit on my porchAnd I watch the parade pass before me<i see> my old comrades, how proudly they marchReliving <the or their> dreams of past glory<i see the old men, all twisted and torn>The forgotten heroes <of> a forgotten warAnd the young people ask <me>, what are theyMarching for?And I ask myself the same questionAnd the band plays waltzing matildaAnd the old men <still> answer to the callBut year after year their numbers get fewerSome day no one will march there at allWaltzing matilda, waltzing matildaWholl <go> a-waltzing matilda with me?
