Music is a universal language, and needs not be translated. With it soul speaks to soul
Standard guitar tuning:EADGBENo capo
A A AWhen I was a Dyoung man, I Acarried my pack. And I lived the free Elife, of a Arover. >From theE Murray's greenD basin, To the Adusty outback, I waltzed my Ematilda all Aover. Then in 19E15, my Dcountry said A"son" "It's tEime to stop Drambling," "Cos there's Awork to be done." So they gave me a tDin hat, And they gave me a Agun, And they sent me Eaway to the wAar. And the band played WDaltzing MAatilda, As we sailed aDway from the Equay. And amDidst all the cheers, And the sAhouts and the tears, We sailed off for EGalipoliA How well I Dremember that Aterrible day, when the blood stained the Esand and the Awater. And hEow in that Dhell that they Acalled Souvla Bay We were butchered like Elambs at the Aslaughter. Johnny ETurkey was Dready, He'd Aprimed himself well. He Eshowered us with Dbullets, And he Arained us with shells. And in five minutes Dflat, he'd blown Aus all to hell. Nearly Eblew us right back to AAustralia. And the band played DWaltzing AMatilda, As we stopped to Dbury our Eslain. And Dwe buried ours and the ATurks buried theirs, And it started all Eover Aagain. Now those who were Dliving, Did their Abest to survive, In that Emad world of guts, blood, and Afire. And for Eseven long Dweeks, I Akept myself alive, As the Ecorpses around me piled Ahigher. Then a Ebig Turkish Dshell, Knocked me Aarse over tit. And Ewhen I Dawoke in my hoAspital bed, And saw what it had Ddone, Christ I Awished I was dead. Never Eknew there were worse things than Adying. And no more I'll go DWaltzing AMatilda, To the green bushes Dso far and Enear. For to Dhang tent and pegs A Aman needs two legs. No more Waltzing EMatilda for Ame. So they collected the Dcrippled, The Awounded and maimed, And they sent us back Ehome to AAustralia. The Elegless, the Darmless, the Ablind and insane. Those Eproud wounded heroes of ASouvla And Eas our ship Dpulled into ACircular Quay I Elooked at the Dplace where my Alegs used to be. And thank Christ, there was Dnobody Awaiting for me, To Egrieve and to mourn and to Apity. And the band played DWaltzing AMatilda, As they carried us Ddown the gangEway. But Dnobody cheered, They Ajust stood and stared, And they Eturned their faces Aaway. And now every DApril, I Asit on my porch, And I Ewatch the parades pass Abefore me. I Esee my old Dcomrades, How Aproudly they march. ReEliving the dreams of past Aglory. I Esee the old Dmen, all Atwisted and torn. The Eforgotten Dheroes of a Aforgotten war. And the young people Dask me, What are Athey marching for? And EI ask my self the same Aquestion. And the band plays DWaltzing AMatilda, And the old men still Danswer the Ecall. But Dyear after year, Their Anumbers get fewer, Someday no-one will Emarch there Aat all. AWaltzing Matilda, DWaltzing Matilda AWho'll come a waltzing matilda withE me?
A A E A
© 2013, Songsterr.com.
© 2013, Songsterr.com.