Now
when I was a young man, I carried a pack,
And I lived the free life of a rover.
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty Outback
Well I waltzed my matilda all over.
Then in nineteen fifteen the country said 'Son!
There's no time for roving, 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 the ship pulled away from the quay.
And midst all the cheers, the flag waving and tears,
We sailed off for Gallipoli.
How well I remember that terrible day,
How 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 Turk, he was ready, he'd primed himself well.
He rained us will bullets, he showered us with shell,
And in ten minutes flat they'd blown us all to Hell.
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury the slain.
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 death, blood and fire.
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While 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 I wished I was dead.
Never knew there were worse things than dying.
For I'll go no more waltzing matilda
All around the wide bush far and free.
For to hump tents and pegs, a man needs both legs.
No more waltzing matilda for me.
So they gathered the wounded, the crippled, the maimed,
And they shipped us back home to Australia.
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane,
Those poor wounded heroes of Suvla.
And as the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thanked Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve, to mourn and to pity.
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they filed us down the gangway.
But nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
And they turned all their faces away.
So now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me.
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march,
Reliving old days and past glories.
But the old men march slowly, their 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.
But the band plays waltzing matilda
And the old men still answer the call.
But year after year more old men disappear.
One day no one will march there at all.
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This song basically refers to School
Spirit's Anzac Day stip for 2005.
Download a simple midi
file of And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda similar to how
I play in on guitar.
Or download the mp3
of The Band Played Waltzing Matilda sung by the writer, Eric Bogle.
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