John Williamson - And the band played waltzing matilda

^ANow when I was a^D young man I ^Acarried me pack And I lived the free l^Eife of the r^Aover. ^AFrom the Murray's green ^Dbasin to the d^Austy outback, Well, I waltzed my ^EMatilda all ov^Aer. Then in 1^B915, my co^Auntry said, "Son, It's t^Bime you stop ramblin', there's ^Awork to be done." So they gave me a ti^Dn hat, and they g^Aave me a gun, And they marched me a^Eway to the ^Awar. And the band played "Wa^Dltzing Ma^Atilda," As the ship pulled a^Dway from the q^Euay, And a^Dmidst all the cheers, the flag w^Aaving, and tears, We sailed off for ^EGallipol^Ai. And how well I re^Dmember that t^Aerrible day, How our blood stained the s^Eand and the w^Aater; And of how in that h^Dell that they c^Aall Suvla Bay We were butchered like l^Eambs at the sl^Aaughter. Johnny T^Burk, he was waitin', he p^Arimed himself well; He sh^Bowered us with bullets, and he r^Aained us with shell ? And in five minutes f^Dlat, he'd bl^Aown us all to hell, Nearly blew us right b^Eack to Au^Astralia. But the band played "Wa^Dltzing Mat^Ailda," When we stopped to b^Dury our s^Elain, Well, ^Dwe buried ours, and the T^Aurks buried theirs, Then we started all o^Ever ag^Aain. And those that were l^Deft, well, we t^Aried to survive In that mad world of b^Elood, death and fi^Are. And for ten wea^Dry weeks I kept mysel^Af alive Though around me the co^Erpses piled hig^Aher. Then a^B big Turkish shell knocked me a^Arse over head, And wh^Ben I woke up in me hos^Apital bed And saw w^Dhat it had done, well, I wi^Ashed I was dead ? Never knew there was w^Eorse things than d^Aying. For I'll go no more "Wal^Dtzing Mat^Ailda," All around the green b^Dush far and f^Eree ? To hum^Dp tents and pegs, a m^Aan needs both legs, No more "Waltzing Mat^Eilda" for ^Ame. So they gathered the cri^Dppled, the wou^Anded, the maimed, And they shipped us back h^Eome to Austra^Alia. The armless, the legl^Dess, the b^Alind, the insane, Those proud wounded he^Eroes of Su^Avla. And as ou^Br ship sailed into Circ^Aular Quay, I loo^Bked at the place where me l^Aegs used to be, And thanked Ch^Drist there was nobody wa^Aiting for me, To grieve, to m^Eourn and to p^Aity. ^ABut the band played "Wal^Dtzing Mati^Alda," As they carried us d^Down the gan^Egway, But^D nobody cheered, they just st^Aood and stared, Then they turned all their f^Eaces a^Away. And so now every Ap^Dril, I si^At on my porch And I watch the pa^Erade pass before^A me. And I see my old c^Domrades, how pro^Audly they march, Reviving old dre^Eams of past g^Alory, And the ^Bold men march slowly, all b^Aones stiff and sore, They're ti^Bred old heroes from a for^Agotten war And the young people a^Dsk "What are th^Aey marching for?" And I ask me^Eself the same ques^Ation. But the band plays "Walt^Dzing Mat^Ailda," And the old men still an^Dswer the c^Eall, But as ^Dyear follows year, more old ^Amen disappear Someday, no one will ^Emarch there at^A all. ^AWaltzing Matilda, wa^Dltzing Matilda. ^AWho'll come a-^Dwaltzing Ma^Atilda with ^Eme? And their gh^Aosts may be h^Eeard as they m^Aarch by the bi^Dllabong, ^AWho'll come a-W^Daltzing M^Eatilda with ^Ame?