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AlexisMachine (< 20)

Waltzing Matilda



January 17, 2010 – Comments (2) | RELATED TICKERS: F , CHK , SIRI

When I was a young man, I carried my pack and I lived the life of the rover


From the Murrys green basin to the dusty outback, I waltzed my Matilda all over.


Then in 1915 my country said son, its time to stop rambling there’s work to be done


So they gave me a tin hat, 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 key


And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers, oh we sailed off for Gallipoli.


Oh, it’s well I remember that terrible day when 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.


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 hell


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 Turk’s 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 arse over head


And when I awoke in me hospital bed and saw what it had done, I wished I were dead


Never knew there were worse things than dying.


For 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 Key,


I looked at the place where my legs used to be


And thanked 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


Though nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared


Then they turned all their faces away.


Now every April I sit on me porch and I watch the parade pass before me


I see my old comrades how proudly they march


Renewing their dreams of past glories


I see those 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 who’ll come a Waltzing Matilda with me?


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


Oh, who’ll come a Waltzing Matilda with me?


2 Comments – Post Your Own

#1) On January 17, 2010 at 9:16 AM, MGDG (36.68) wrote:

That's an interesting poem Alexis. Thanks for sharing it.

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#2) On January 17, 2010 at 12:39 PM, Teacherman1 (< 20) wrote:

I think that's their National Anthem.

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