The Band Played Waltzing Matilda 
Lyrics by Eric Bogle 

When I was a young man I carried me pack 
And I lived the free life of the rover 
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback 
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 
So 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 
When the ship pulled away from the quay 
And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers 
We sailed off for Gallipoli 

It well I remember that terrible day 
When our blood stained the sand and the water 
And how in that [bad word] they call Suvla Bay 
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter 
Johnny Turk, he was ready, 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 [bad word] 
He nearly blew us back home to Australia 

And the band played Waltzing Matilda 
When we stopped to bury our slain 
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs 
Then it started all over again 

Oh those that were living just tried to survive 
In that 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 [bad word] over head 
And when I awoke in me hospital bed 
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead 
I never knew there was worse things than dying 

Oh no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda 
All around 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 wounded, the crippled, the maimed 
And they shipped us back home to Australia 
The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane 
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla 
And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay 
I looked at the place where me legs used to be 
And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me 
To grieve and to mourn and to pity 

And the Band played Waltzing Matilda 
When they carried us down the gangway 
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared 
Then they turned all their faces away 

Now every April I sit on my porch 
And I watch the parade pass before me 
I see my [bad word]  how proudly they march 
Renewing their dreams of past glories 
I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn 
Those 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 plays Waltzing Matilda 
And the old men still answer the call 
But year after year, their numbers get fewer 
Someday, no one will march there at all 

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda  [bad word] a-Waltzing Matilda with me? 
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong 
So [bad word] a-Waltzing Matilda with me?