Walzing Mathilda

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 walzed my Mathilda all over

Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son

It's time to stop rambling cos there's work to be done

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

And sent me away to the war

And the band played walzing mathilda

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

How 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

Jonny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well

He chased 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 Austraila

But the band played Walzing Mathilda

As we stopped to bury our slain

We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs

Then we started all over again

Now, those who were left, well we tried to survive

In that mad world of blood, death and fire

And for then weary weaks I kept myself alive

But around me the corpses piled higher

Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit

And I woke up in my hospital bed

I saw what it had done, Christ, I wish I was dead

Never knew there were worse things than dying

For I'll go no more waltzing Mathilda

All around the green bush far and near

For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs

No more waltzing Mathilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed

And they shipped us back home, to Australia

The armless, the legless, 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 noone there waiting for me

To grieve and to mourn and to pity

And the band played Walzing Mathilda

As they carried us down the gangway

But nobody cheered, they just stood and they stared

Then turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on my porch

And I watch the parade pass before me

And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march

Renewing the dreams of past glory

The silly old men - all bent stiff and sore

The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war

And the young people ask, 'what are they marching for?'

And I ask myself the same question

And the band played Waltzing Mathilda

And the old men answer to call

But year after year their numbers get fewer

Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Mathilda, Waltzing Mathilda

Who'll come a-waltzing Mathilda with me?

And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the blue sky

Who'll come a-waltzing Mathilda with me?