Kunci: A major•
Intro 1
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F#m
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Verse 1
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young man I carried my pack
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And I loved the free life of a rover
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From the Murray's Green Basin
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to the Dusty Island back
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I was my Matilda all over
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Then in 1915 my country said son
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It's time to stop ramblin'
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there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat
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an d 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 cave
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And amidst all the tears,
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the shouts and the cheers
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We sailed off for Gallipoli
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How well I remember a terrible day
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How the blood stained the
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sand and the water
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And how in that hell
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were they called so flabby
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lambs at the slaughter
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Johnny Turk, he was ready,
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He chased us with bullets
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and he rained us with shells
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And in five minutes flat,
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he'd blown us all to hell
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Then he blew us right back to Australia
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But the barn played Waltzing Matilda
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As we stopped to bury our slain
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and the Turks buried theirs
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And we started all over again
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Now those that were left,
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well we 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,
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But around me, the corpses piled high
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And when I woke up in the hospital bed
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And saw what it had done
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Oh, I wished I was dead
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Never knew there were
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worse things than dying
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For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
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All around the green bush far and near
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For the humpting and pangs
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A man needs two lives
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No more Walton, Matilda, for me
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They collected the cripples,
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the wounded, the maimed
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And they shipped us right back to Australia
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The armless, the legless,
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the blind, the insane
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Those proud -winded heroes of Silver
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An d as our ship pulled
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into Circular Keep
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I looked at the place where
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And thank Christ there was
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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 gateway
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they just stood and stared
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Then they 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 be fore me
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And I watch my old comrades,
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how proudly they march
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Reliving old dreams of past glory
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And the old men march slowly,
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all bent stiff and sore
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And the young people ask,
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what are they fighting for?
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And I ask myself the same question
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And the band played waltz in Matilda
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And the old man answered to the call
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But year after year their num
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bers get fewer
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Someday no one will march at all
Waltzing Matilda,
Who'll go a -waltzing Matilda with me
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as you pass the boulevard
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Oh, come a -waltzing Matilda
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with me you
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