Now when I was a young man and I carried my pack
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and I lived the free life of the rover
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From the Murray's green basin to the dusty out back
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I waltzed my Matilda all over.
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Then in 1915 my country said "Son
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It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done"
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And they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
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And they sent me away to the war.
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And the band played Waltzing Matilda
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As the ships pulled away from the quay
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And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
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We sailed off to Galipolli
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And how I remember that terrible day
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How our blood stained the sand and the water
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And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
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We were butchered like lambs to the slaughter.
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Johnnie Turk was ready, oh he primed himself well
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He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell
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And in five minutes flat we were all blown to hell
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nearly blew us all back home to Australia.
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But the band played Waltzing Matilda
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as we stuck to bury our slain
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We burned ours and the Turks buried theirs
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and we started all over again
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Those who were living just tried to survive
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In a mad world of blood death and fire
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And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive
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While around me the corpses piled higher
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Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
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And when I awoke in my hospital bed
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And saw what it had done and I wished I was dead
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Never knew there were worse things than dying
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For no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda
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All round the green bush far and near
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For to hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs
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No more Waltzing Matilda for me.
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They collected the crippled, the wounded, the maimed
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And they shipped us back home to Australia
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The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
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Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
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And as our ship pulled in to Circular Key
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And I looked at the place where my legs used to be
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I thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me
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To grieve and to mourn and to Pity
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And the band played Waltzing Matilda
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as they carried us down the gangway
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But nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
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And turned all their faces away
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So now every April, I sit on my porch
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And I watch the parade pass before me
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And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
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Renewing their dreams of past glory
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I see the old men all tired, stiff and sore
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The weary old heroes of a forgotten war
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And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
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And I ask myself the same question
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And the band played Waltzing Matilda
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And the old men still answer the call
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But year after year, the numbers get fewer
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Some day none will march there at all
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Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
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Who'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me
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And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
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Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.
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And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda
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| John McDermott |