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 to Gallipoli


How well I remember that terrible day
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 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

But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
And we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs

Then started all over again

Now those

In mad world of blood, death and fire
And for weeks I kept myself alive


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, I wished I was

Dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
no more I'll go waltzing Matilda

the green far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me


So they collected the cripples, the wounded
Maimed

And they shipped us back home to Australia
, the blind insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla

And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where 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
turned all their faces away


And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
my old comrades, how proudly they march

Reliving dreams of past glory

The forgotten heroes a forgotten war

And the young people ask , "What are they
Marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question

And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to 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 a-waltzing Matilda with me?