Waltzing my Matilda Eric Bogle
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When I was a young man I carried my pack
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And I lived the free life of a rover
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From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
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I waltzed my Matilda all over
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Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
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It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done
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So 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 we sailed away from the quay
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And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
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We sailed off for Gallipoli
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How well I remember that terrible day
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When the 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 at the slaughter
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Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
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He shot us with bullets, he rained us with shells
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And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
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Nearly blew us right back to Australia
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And the band played Waltzing Matilda
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As we stopped to bury our slain
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We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
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And it started all over again
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Now those who were living did their best to survive
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In that mad world of death, blood and fire
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And for seven long weeks I kept myself alive
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While the corpses around me piled higher
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Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
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And when I woke up in my hospital bed
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And saw what it had done, Christ 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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To the green bushes so far and near
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For to hang tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
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No more waltzing Matilda for me
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So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
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And they shipped us back home to Australia
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The legless, the armless, the blind, the insane
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Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
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And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
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I looked at the place where my legs used to be
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And thank Christ there was nobody 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 and stared
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Then turned all their faces away
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And now every April I sit on my porch
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And I watch the parade pass before me
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I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
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Reliving the dreams of past glory
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I see the old men, all twisted and torn
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The forgotten heroes of a forgotten war
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And the young people ask me, "What are they marching for?"
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And I ask myself the same question
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And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
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And the old men still answer the call
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But year after year their numbers get fewer
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Some day no one will march there at all
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Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
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Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me
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And their ghosts may be heard
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As they march beside the billabong
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Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me