And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda as sung by John Williamson (original written by Eric Bogle)
This is played in the key of A. There are extra chords needed to be worked out so this song plays out as well as John sings it
[A]When I was a[D] young man I [A]carried a pack
I lived the free l[E]ife of the r[A]over.
[A]From the Murray's green [D]basin to the d[A]usty outback,
I waltzed my [E]Matilda all ov[A]er.
Then in 1[E]915, my co[D]untry said, "S[A]on,
There's no time for ro[E]ving, there's [D]work to be d[A]one."
And they gave me a ti[D]n hat, and they g[A]ave me a gun,
And they sent me a[E]way to the [A]war.
And the band played "Wa[D]ltzing Ma[A]tilda,"
As the ship pulled a[D]way from the q[E]uay,
And a[D]midst all the cheers, the flag w[A]aving and tea[F#m]rs,
We set off for [E]Gallipol[A]i.
How well I re[D]member that t[A]errible day,
When our blood stained the s[E]and and the w[A]ater;
And how in that h[D]ell that they c[A]all Suvla Bay
We were butchered like l[E]ambs at the sl[A]aughter.
Jo[F#m]hnny Turk, he was wai[E]tin', he'd p[D]rimed himself w[A]ell;
He sh[F#m]owered us with bu[E]llets, and he r[D]ained us with s[A]hell
And in five minutes f[D]lat, well he'd bl[A]ew us to hell,
He[?] nearly blew us right b[E]ack to Au[A]stralia.
And the band played "Wa[D]ltzing Mat[A]ilda,"
As we stopped to b[D]ury our s[E]lain,
[D]We buried ours, and the T[A]urks buried theirs,
Then we started all o[E]ver ag[A]ain.
So those who were l[D]eft, just t[A]ried to survive
In that mad world of b[E]lood, death and fi[A]re.
And for ten wea[D]ry weeks I kept mysel[A]f alive
As the co[E]rpses around me piled hig[A]her.
Then a[E] big Turkish she[D]ll knocked me a[A]rse over head,
And wh[E]en I woke up[D] in me hos[A]pital bed
I saw w[D]hat it had done, and I wi[A]shed I was dead �
Then I knew there was w[E]orse things than d[A]ying.
And I'll go no more "Wal[D]tzing Mat[A]ilda,"
All through the green b[D]ush far and f[E]ree �
To hum[D]p tents and pegs, a m[A]an needs both legs,
No more "Waltzing Mat[E]ilda" for [A]me.
They collected the cri[D]ppled, the wou[A]nded, the maimed,
Shipped us all back [E] to Austra[A]lia.
The legless, the arm[D]less, the b[A]lind and insane,
Those brave wounded he[E]roes of Su[A]vla.
And as ou[E]r ship pu[D]lled into Circ[A]ular Quay,
I loo[E]ked at the pl[D]ace where me l[A]egs used to be,
And thanked Ch[D]rist there was nobody wa[A]iting for me,
To mourn, and to gri[E]eve, and to p[A]ity.
[A]And the band played "Wal[D]tzing Mati[A]lda,"
As they carried us d[D]own the gan[E]gway,
[D] Nobody cheered, they just st[A]ood and stared,
Then they turned all their f[E]aces a[A]way.
And now every Ap[D]ril, I si[A]t on my porch
As I watch the pa[E]rade pass before[A] me.
I see my old c[D]omrades, how pro[A]udly they march,
Reviving old dre[E]ams of past g[A]lories,
The [E]old men march slowly, all b[D]ones stiff and s[A]ore,
Ti[E]red old men fro[D]m a tir[A]red old war
And the young people a[D]sk "What are th[A]ey marching for?"
And I ask me[E]self the same ques[A]tion.
And the band plays "Walt[D]zing Mat[A]ilda,"
As the old men still an[D]swer the c[E]all,
And [D]year after year, more old [A]men disappear
Soon none of them will [E]march there at[A] all.
[A]Waltzing Matilda, wa[D]ltzing Matilda.
[A]Who'll come a-[D]waltzing Ma[A]tilda with [E]me?
And their gh[A]osts may be h[E]eard as they m[A]arch by the bi[D]llabong,
[A]Who'll come a-W[D]altzing M[E]atilda with [A]me?
Important: The song above is NOT stored on the Chordie server. The original song is hosted at www.guitaretab.com. Chordie works as a search engine and provides on-the-fly formatting. Chordie does not index songs against artists'/composers' will. To remove this song please click here.
You need to log in to post comments
chrissyg (report)
This song was NOT written by John Williamson but by Eric Bogle