Now when I was a young man and I carried my pack

and I lived the free life of the rover

From the Murray's green basin to the dusty out back

I waltzed my Matilda all over.

Then in 1915 my country said "Son

It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done"

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

And they sent me away to the war.





And the band played Waltzing Matilda

As the ships pulled away from the quay

And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers

We sailed off to Galipolli





And how I remember that terrible day

How our blood stained the sand and the water

And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay

We were butchered like lambs to the slaughter.





Johnnie Turk was ready, oh he primed himself well

He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shell

And in five minutes flat we were all blown to hell

nearly blew us all back home to Australia.





But the band played Waltzing Matilda

as we stuck to bury our slain

We burned ours and the Turks buried theirs

and we started all over again





Those who were living just tried to survive

In a mad world of blood death and fire

And for ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive

While around me the corpses piled higher





Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head

And when I awoke in my hospital bed

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

Never knew there were worse things than dying

For no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda

All round the green bush far and near

For to hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs

No more Waltzing Matilda for me.





They collected the crippled, 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 in to Circular Key

And I looked at the place where my legs used to be

I thanked Christ there was no one there 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 there and stared

And turned all their faces away





So now every April, I sit on my porch

And I watch the parade pass before me

And I see my old comrades, how proudly they march

Renewing their dreams of past glory





I see the old men all tired, stiff and sore

The weary old heroes of 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 Matilda

And the old men still answer the call

But year after year, the numbers get fewer

Some day none will march there at all





Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda

Who'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me

And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong

Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.