And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda - John Williamson

When I was a young man I carried a 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 the country said Son

There’s no time for roving, there’s work to be done

And they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun

And they marched me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda

As our ships pulled away from the quay

Amidst 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

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 showered us with bullets and he rained us with shells

And in ten minutes flat, well he’d blown us all to hell

Nearly blew us back home 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

Well those that were left, we tried to survive

In a mad world of blood, death and fire

For ten weary weeks I kept myself alive

But around me the corpses piled higher

Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head

And when I awoke up in my hospital bed

And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead

Never knew there were worse things than dying

For no more I’ll go waltzing Matilda

All around the green bush far and free

To hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs

No more waltzing Matilda for me

They collected the crippled, the wounded and maimed

And they shipped us on home to Australia

The armless, the legless, the blind and insane

All the brave wounded heroes of Suvla

And when our ship pulled into Circular Quay

And 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

And then turned 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 old dreams and past glories

But the old men march slowly, their bones stiff and sore

Tired old men from 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 those old men disappear

Some day no one will march there at all

And the band played Waltzing Matilda

And the old men still answer the call

But year after year those old men disappear