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Waltzing Matilda Lyrics
When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause 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 we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli
How well I remember that terrible day
When the 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 primed himself well
He shot us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
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
And it started all over again
Now those who were living did their best to survive
In that mad world of death, blood and fire
And for seven long weeks I kept myself alive
While the corpsed around me piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, Christ I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
To the green bushes so far and near
For to hang tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the 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 pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and 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
Then turned all their faces away
And 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 the dreams of past glory
I see the old men, all twisted and torn
The forgotten heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask me, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me
Well, this song and "Green Fields of France" (actual title "No Man's Land" do go rather well together, since they were written by the same man - Eric Bogle, a Scot who now lives in Australia.
Bogle's original lyric says "arse over head", which rhymes, and "rained us with bullets and showered us with shell", which scans better (and "shell" is a correct usage of the word, and it rhymes...)
this song title is actually "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" The Pogues may have simply called it Waltzing Matilda, but they are two completely different songs. a portion of the song , "Waltzing Matilda" (and Australian folk song) is used at the end of the song.
This song reminds me of a poem we learned in highschool, actually. Does anyone else think of Dulce et Decorum Est when listening to this?
^^well the fact that they are both about the first world war!
but ya, this song is quite powerful when played by the Pogues
Put this song on along with "Green Fields of France" by the Dropkick Murphys, a song about an Irish Soldier who died in France during WWI. Two different points of view, one hell of a message. If you're lucky enough to find a copy of "Willie McBride's Reply" throw that on the playlist as well, it's a response that adds a lot to both songs.
As an Australian, I've grown up with Anzac Day and all the nonsense that comes with it. Entire beaches blocked for the parade to pass through, sprigs of rosemary worn by children with no concept of war, old men in uniforms who still haven't grasped that concept despite their experiences. I can well imagine myself asking, as a young child, "What are they marching for?"